All Fun And Games
by SpecialAgentJim
Summary: It's all fun and games until somebody loses... Well, you get the idea! While exploring the city, John & Rodney discover some toys that aren't for the faint of heart. Set early in series. JohnRodney Friendship. SEVENTEEN: Post-Game Analysis
1. Kids In The Toy Store

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not receiving compensation from any source, in any form, for the creation of this story. This is a work of fan fiction, created for the sole purpose of personal enjoyment. No copyright infringement is intended.

**RATING – **This story is rated** K+**

**ARCHIVE – **You have my permission to archive this story. Please, just let me know where it's going. Thanks!

**SUMMARY – **It's all fun and games until somebody loses… While poking around in some previously unexplored parts of the city, John and Rodney discover a device that has high danger potential. This is a John/Rodney Friendship story, with a little humour and a wee bit of whumping. No slash and no 'ships. This is a multi-chapter, multiple POV story.

**A/N – **For those of you who are following my other story (_The Song of Silent Rivers_) don't worry…I haven't abandoned it. I'm still working on it, but I felt I needed to write something with a bit lighter tone. This is set in the same 'universe' as my other story, so a few of my previously-created OCs may make an appearance. I won't tell you who, yet. I'll just let you be surprised. I hope you all enjoy the story and don't forget to leave me some comments! Have fun!

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**1. Kids In The Toy Store**

Lieutenant-Colonel John Sheppard liked nothing better than a good adventure.

John might've thought the job of surveying previously unexplored sections of Atlantis wouldn't qualify as an adventure if he'd been with anyone other than Dr. Rodney McKay. As annoying as Rodney could be at times, John had to admit he honestly liked the guy, and Rodney really was the best person to have along on a mission like this one. The Canadian physicist seemed to have a nose for uncovering useful Ancient technology and subsequently figuring out how to make it work. There were the odd times when Rodney couldn't solve an Ancient riddle and managed to get himself into trouble, but John guessed that was to be expected. The law of averages couldn't be on his side all the time. The bottom line was, Rodney kept things interesting.

John had awakened in a particularly good mood this morning, for no particular reason. He'd felt especially energetic when he and Ronon had gone for their usual run before breakfast. He'd even managed to pay attention for almost all of Elizabeth's regularly-scheduled staff meeting. He was especially proud of himself for that.

By the time he and Rodney had started out on their trek, John figured he was ready for just about anything.

The first few rooms John and Rodney encountered were living quarters. Teams on mapping missions always seemed to be discovering more and more of those. John thought the population of Atlantis must have been huge when the Ancients still lived here.

As always, Rodney was interested in checking out the quarters, to see if they were an improvement over his current accommodations. John couldn't resist teasing him about being the official Atlantean real-estate agent, to which Rodney only responded with a growl. After a little coaxing, John managed to persuade his Canadian friend to move on.

Several metres down the corridor, they came to the next doorway. John passed his hand in front of the door sensor, fully expecting to find another apartment when the doors slid open. He prepared himself for the mild disappointment of not discovering something really cool.

The doors parted.

What John saw when he stepped inside was most definitely not living quarters.

The room contained several tables that were filled with all manner of odd-looking items. John saw multicoloured blocks, something that vaguely resembled a checkerboard, and some sort of puzzle that made him think of the balls and sticks his high school chemistry teacher had used to describe molecules. There were dozens of things on the tables that he couldn't even come close to identifying. Now, he was curious, to say the least.

"Wow," was all he managed to say.

Beside him, he heard Rodney's snort of disdain. "You're as eloquent as ever, Sheppard."

Ignoring Rodney for the moment, John stepped further in. Right in the middle of the room was a large, square pedestal. It was transparent and John saw that it was filled with water. Floating gently on the surface was a perfect scale model of Atlantis. Along the top edge of the water-filled pedestal, John saw six model puddlejumpers, each small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. A scaled-down Stargate rested opposite the tiny 'jumpers.

"Wow…" John repeated. "Rodney, come here and look at these. They're amazing."

Rodney came over to look at the model of the city. "It's Atlantis," he said.

John laughed. "Now I know why they call you a genius."

"Very funny," said Rodney, as he peered at the city floating placidly in its tank of water. "Why would the Ancients build something like this? There doesn't seem to be much point. I mean, there's nothing in here that looks remotely like it could be used for a scientific purpose."

"It's a toy," John said. "This room is full of toys."

"Toys?"

"Yeah. You know what toys are, right? You must've played with toys when you were a kid, McKay. You know, stuff like G.I. Joe and water guns and model planes?"

"No."

"Stuffed animals?"

"No."

"Dolls?"

Rodney turned beet red and growled, "No!"

"Okay, then," John said. "I was just asking."

"What makes you think these are toys?" Rodney said, gesturing expansively at the room's contents.

"The Ancients must've had kids," John said. "I mean, if I was an Ancient kid, I would've loved to play with these." He picked up one of the little 'jumpers. "Hey, I'd love to play with it _now. _Do you think it really flies?"

"Let's not find out," Rodney said. His gaze travelled around the room until it came to rest on something in a far corner. He started toward it. "Hello… What's that?"

John looked in the direction Rodney was going. The only thing he saw was a tall, rather unimpressive rectangular column. The thing was gunmetal grey, and its only visibly distinguishing features were two projections on the sides, and an indented panel on the front. At first glance, John thought it kind of looked like a two-handled slot machine. Realistically, of course, he couldn't even have begun to guess what the thing was for. It didn't seem very interesting to him, but if Rodney wanted to poke around the thing, John was not about to stop him.

John studied the toy puddlejumper in his hand. Concentrating, he directed his mental energy toward the small ship. _Fly!_ He commanded it, just as he would have done with his beloved Jumper One.

To his amazement and delight, he felt a tingling on his palm, and then the little 'jumper hovered several centimetres above his hand. With very little effort at all, he found he could make the toy soar around the room. He could make it go faster or slower, and he could make it perform intricate aerial manoeuvres with unbelievable ease.

"Hey, Rodney," he called to his friend. He flew the toy ship slowly toward Rodney and bumped the physicist's shoulder gently with it. "Surprise!"

Rodney spun around and exclaimed, "Sheppard, what are you doing?"

"Flying," John said, as he thought his new toy back toward its own little Atlantis. "Isn't it great? I know somebody else who'd _love_ these."

"Yes. Well, luckily for us, that _someone_ is currently on the mainland."

"Check this out. I can fly it through the little 'Gate," John said.

"Oh, that's wonderful, Sheppard. Truly wonderful. You can fly the little 'jumper through the little Stargate. Look, when you're through playing with your toys, do you think you could actually make yourself useful and help me?"

"Sure Rodney. No problem," said John, and made the tiny puddlejumper do a couple of orbits around the physicist's head.

"Would you stop that?" Rodney yelled.

Rodney grabbed for the toy 'jumper, but John flew it out of his reach. John held up his hand and brought the little ship in for a beautifully executed landing on his palm. He grinned at Rodney. "What's the matter?" he said. "Where's your sense of humour? Hey, I wonder if these little guys have a cloaking device like the real ones. Let's see—"

"Colonel, need I remind you that we're here on a serious mission of exploration?"

"This is exploration," John said. "We're exploring an Ancient toy store."

"Seriously, I hardly think—"

"Wow…it _does_ have a cloaking device."

"Fine. If you insist on being immature and unhelpful, I'll just have to go on exploring without you."

"That's a really, really dumb idea. You know that, right?" John uncloaked the toy 'jumper and tucked it into one of the pockets of his vest. He crossed the room to where Rodney was still standing near the odd-looking machine. "So, what do you think this does?"

"I don't know, yet, but it's probably some kind of toy, just like everything else in here."

"Well, maybe we could figure out what it's for if we turn it on."

"We don't know how to turn it on."

"Sure, we do," John said. He reached out and touched the machine, and thought about activating it. Immediately it lit up and began to hum softly. John was pleased with the result, and gave Rodney his best cocky grin. "There ya go, McKay. It's all yours."

Rodney leaned forward to peer at the three depressions on the front panel of the machine. The thing emitted a faint clicking sound, and before either Rodney or John could react, three metallic-looking tubes erupted from the machine. The tubes attached themselves to Rodney's head, one in the space just above his eyebrows and one against either temple.

Rodney howled.

There was no other way to describe the noise the physicist was making. Rodney was howling, and John was hard-pressed to determine whether his friend's cries were a result of pain or panic.

"Sheppard!" Rodney wailed. "Sheppard, get it off me! Get it off, now!"

John's first thought was, _Oh, crap…_

**TBC  
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	2. The Games Ancients Play

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not receving compensation from any source, in any form, for the creation of this story. I am writing this story for my own enjoyment and the entertainment of others. No copyright infringement is intended.

**RATING – **Story rated** K+**

**ARCHIVE –** If you would like to archive this story, you have my permission to do so. All I ask is that you let me know where you are archiving it. Thanks!

**A/N – **Wow! I'm floored by the number of hits Chapter 1 has gotten already. I'd like to say a huge thank you to the people who actually left me comments, too. I love the feedback, so if you're enjoying this story, tell me about it! Here is the next chapter for you. It's also a short one, but I have a feeling this story will tend toward shorter chapters (unlike my other current WIP). Enjoy!

I have no beta, so any mistakes you encounter are mine.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**2. The Games Ancients Play**

"Don't panic," John said.

He realized this was a stupid thing to say, the moment the words left his mouth. Telling a clearly frightened Rodney not to panic was something like striking a match near a gas leak. Rodney's demands for help disintegrated into incomprehensible babbling, and he started breathing even more rapidly than he'd been doing before. Pretty soon, the trapped physicist was going to start hyperventilating and that, John decided, would be very, very bad.

John stepped closer to Rodney and the machine so he could inspect the parts of the device that had attached themselves to Rodney's head. The projections that looked like tubes were actually articulated and made to bend. They kind of reminded him of the robotic arm NASA used, except these little arms didn't end in mechanisms made to grasp things. These ended in flat, round contact points.

Cautiously, John moved his hand toward the nearest contact point. He touched it with a forefinger. There was a zapping sound, and John felt the tingle of a shock run the entire length of his arm.

"Damn!" he exclaimed, as his tingling arm fell to his side.

Rodney whimpered. "Wh-what…was that?"

"Sorry," John said. "It zapped me. Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay? I have this…this _thing_ on me! You have to get it off me!"

"I'm trying," John said. He massaged his arm, and attempted to think. "I can't touch the machine while it's got you like that."

"You haven't touched the machine itself."

"No."

"Well, touch it and think about deactivating it."

John rested his palm on the device, in the same way he'd done when he'd activated it. He concentrated on turning the machine off, but nothing happened. The device continued to glow and hum quietly, and it didn't let go of Rodney. At last, John lifted his hand.

"This isn't working," John said. "Look, maybe _you_ have to think it off. Maybe it can only be deactivated by the person who's using it. Remember that personal shield thing you found that time? Maybe it's like that."

"Maybe," Rodney said, though he seemed doubtful.

"It's a theory, isn't it?" John said. "What have you got to lose?"

"A lot, for your information. I mean, what if this thing is injecting brain-cell-eating nanites into me, or something?"

"Could it be doing that?"

"I don't know!" Rodney exclaimed. "Look, I just want to get out of here, so could you please shut up and let me focus?"

"Sure."

Rodney closed his eyes. John could see the intensity of Rodney's concentration written all over his features. John didn't know how much time passed while Rodney tried to make the machine release him, but it seemed like a veritable eternity. When Rodney finally raised his eyelids, his face was pale and there were drops of perspiration on his forehead.

"I can't think it off," he said to John. "What am I going to do? I can't stay here like this."

"Does it hurt?"

"A little."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah," Rodney admitted.

John put a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Try to stay calm, okay? I'm going to call for help. We'll find a way to get you out of there."

Rodney tried to nod, winced, and let out a small hiss. "Tell Elizabeth to send Zelenka, okay? He's the only one I really trust to fool around with a machine that's attached to my head."

"If you're in a hurry, Radek might not be the best person to ask for," John said. "He's on the mainland, remember? I could get Kavanagh—"

"Sheppard, that's not even remotely funny," Rodney said.

"Sorry. Just hang on," said John. He touched his radio earpiece, and spoke into it. "Dr. Weir, this is Colonel Sheppard."

A moment passed and then John heard Elizabeth's voice in his ear. "Go ahead, John. How are you and Rodney getting along?"

"Uh…that's what I'm calling you about," John said. "We kind of ran into some trouble down here, and we need some help. We found a room full of…devices, and one of them has—"

John's explanation of their situation was interrupted by an extremely loud zapping noise. He looked over his shoulder and saw Rodney had taken hold of the parts of the machine that resembled handlebars. His body appeared alarmingly limp.

John swallowed the expletive that was right on the tip of his tongue, and closed the small distance between himself and Rodney in one long stride. It didn't take a genius to know the physicist was out cold. As bad as that was, John felt a surge of relief that his friend was only unconscious and not in a far worse physical state.

"John…?" said Elizabeth's curious voice. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," John said. "I'm okay, but Rodney isn't. I'm pretty sure we need a doctor down here. If you can contact Dr. Zelenka on the mainland, tell him Rodney and I would really like to have him here, too."

"Why do you need Dr. Zelenka?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

"Uh…well, you could say we're having technical difficulties," John said. "Really serious technical difficulties."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When Rodney opened his eyes, he was no longer in the room full of toys. That was his first observation upon waking. His second revelation was that he actually had no idea where he was. He was lying on his back, staring up at a perfectly white ceiling. When he turned his head to the side, he found himself gazing at a pristine white wall.

_I can turn my head_, was his next realization. He reached up to feel the sides of his face and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't detect anything but his own skin. He touched his forehead, just for good measure. Nothing was sticking to him there, either. He silently thanked whatever cosmic forces might have intervened on his behalf, and sat up.

He started to panic again when he got a full view of his surroundings, or rather, his lack of surroundings. The place was completely white. The floor, ceiling and walls were utterly featureless and devoid of contrast or shadow. There were no visible doors or windows; no avenue of escape.

Rodney could feel his chest beginning to tighten. Claustrophobia was a bad thing; very, very bad. His irrational, uncontrollable fear of being closed in made it difficult for him to breathe and even more difficult to think clearly.

"Wide open spaces…wide open spaces…" he muttered to himself. He needed all his wits about him if he was going to free himself from this place. He couldn't let himself go to pieces. If he did, he might not get out of this alive.

That was when a most terrifying thought occurred to him.

"Oh my God," he whimpered into the white emptiness. "Maybe I'm already dead."

The last thing he could remember was the sensation of an electrical shock going through his entire body.

He'd always believed he'd just disappear into oblivion after he died. Oblivion would've been much better than this, he reflected. He imagined himself slowly going insane in this room. Miserably, he drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, huddling in on himself. His fear had suddenly been transformed into a kind of numb shock. He closed his eyes and tried to picture something – _anything_ – besides the stark, bare room. _Laptop, power bar, cat, security blanket…_ That helped, a little.

«_Rodney McKay»_

The androgynous voice speaking his name startled Rodney out of his attempt at self-consolation. He opened his eyes again and looked around frantically, but of course he saw no one. He couldn't even tell from which direction the voice had come from. It seemed to have been everywhere, even echoing inside his head.

_«Rodney McKay»_ the genderless, resonating voice intoned. _«Welcome to The Game»_

**TBC  
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	3. The Unreal McKay

**DISCLAIMER –** _Stargate: Atlantis_ is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I'm writing this story for fun, and I am not being compensated in any way for its creation.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character.

**RATING –** This story is rated **K+**

**ARCHIVE –** Feel free to archive this story if you'd like. All I ask is that you would tell me where it's being archived. Thanks!

**A/N –** Yay! I'm so thrilled with the responses to this story, I don't even have a word to describe my thrilled-ness! Thank you to everyone who's reading, and especially those of you who've replied. I love those replies and I appreciate you taking the time to leave them for me.

-grin- Looks like the toy 'jumpers were a hit, too. I'm glad you guys liked those. I can tell you with certainty that you haven't seen the last of them.

Well, here is Chapter 3 for you. As my brother says, it's a bit of a head trip. I hope it's not too confusing. Let me know, ok? Enjoy!

I have no beta. Any mistakes you might find are mine.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**3. The Unreal McKay**

"The Game," Rodney said aloud into the empty air. "What game?"

He received no answer, but then again, he hadn't really expected one. He stood up and turned in a slow circle. As he completed his rotation, he thought he saw a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye. He kept turning until he was facing the direction from which he thought he'd seen the motion.

The wall flickered.

Rodney stared.

The flickering wall resolved into the image of a white door with a brass doorknob. It didn't look anything like the doors on Atlantis. Rodney thought it more closely resembled the front entrance of a house on Earth. Encouraged by the prospect of finally leaving the white room, Rodney started toward the door.

He didn't reach it before someone else opened it from the other side and stepped through. The person was a very small someone; a girl who couldn't have been any older than seven or eight years. She was wearing a red dress, white socks and shiny black shoes. Her dark brown hair framed her face in big, loose curls. Some people might've thought she was cute – adorable, even – but the sight of her filled Rodney with a nameless dread.

_A kid,_ he thought. _I'm trapped in this place, and the only other living person around here is a kid!_ The situation, in Rodney's considerable opinion, had just deteriorated from bad to worse. What was he supposed to do about the kid? He'd go absolutely crazy in no time flat if he had to deal with this ankle-biter on top of everything else.

The little girl marched right up to him. She tilted her chin and peered at him as if she were appraising him. Rodney noticed her eyes were green. She had a particularly penetrating gaze.

"Hello, Rodney," the little girl said.

"Uh…" said Rodney.

"Aren't you going to say hello?" said the girl. "You should say hello."

"Hello," Rodney said.

"That's better," said the girl.

"Excuse me for being rude, but who are you?"

The little girl put her hands on her hips. "Rodney McKay! Don't you recognize me?" she said.

"No."

"I'm Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth _Weir_?"

"Of course."

"You look…different."

"Oh, everyone looks a little different here," mini-Elizabeth said.

"Yeah, about that," said Rodney. "Where exactly is 'here'?"

"Here," said mini-Elizabeth. She touched a finger to her forehead. "You're creating this place."

"I'm creating it? How am I creating it?"

"The Game reads your thoughts. It uses them to provide the greatest challenge for you. That's what makes The Game fun."

_Oh yes…fun_. Being trapped in a room with a small girl who claimed to be Elizabeth Weir did not meet the criteria for fun in Rodney's quality world. Having someone read his mind and use his thoughts to create an environment for him didn't exactly amuse him, either. And the fact that mini-Elizabeth had said that 'here' was inside his brain was just…disturbing. He'd thought his mind would look a lot more interesting and complex than this.

"Let me get this straight," Rodney said. "Right now, you and I are in my head? I'm standing inside my own head?"

"Of course you're not standing inside your own head. Though your head is rather large, It would not accommodate you in that way."

"That's not what I m—" Rodney began. "Hey! Did you just insult me? You can't really be Elizabeth, because the real Elizabeth would never—"

"You forget I'm not the _real _Elizabeth," mini-Elizabeth said. She laughed. "We are only images. You are the player and I am the guide, and our images are standing inside the construct that the game device has created from your thoughts. Your physical body is in Atlantis, connected to the game device."

"It's safe, right? I mean, my physical body isn't going to…uh…you know, _die_ out there, is it?"

"Of course not. Don't be silly," mini-Elizabeth said airily. She held out her hand to him. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to begin The Game, Rodney."

"What if I don't want to?"

"You wouldn't have activated the device if you didn't want to play. That would've been silly."

"I didn't mean to activate the device. It just sort of happened."

"Let's go," said mini-Elizabeth. She took his hand and tugged him toward the door. "I will show you where your Game begins."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

John had never been any good at sitting still. Patience was not high on his list of virtues, either, so while he waited for help to arrive, he decided to explore the Ancient toy room a bit more. Some of the toys and games looked interesting, while others were downright weird. The 'jumpers and the model of Atlantis were still his favourites, though. In the corner opposite Rodney's machine, John discovered another machine exactly like it. He was extremely careful about not touching it.

John guessed about ten minutes had passed by the time he'd seen everything he wanted to see in the room. He circled back to the device that held Rodney in its grip. The physicist was still unconscious, slumped forward against the device. He was going to have a sore back when he woke up, John thought.

John spun around when he heard the soft hiss of the opening door. He had to resist the urge to give voice to his relief. Carson was here at last. He might not know how to get Rodney out of the clutches of the Ancient machine, but at least he'd know if the physicist was going to be okay until the proverbial cavalry arrived to free him.

When the doors parted, the person who entered the room was not Carson Beckett. The man who hurried through the doorway, medical supplies in hand, was a wiry individual with out-of-control black hair and a faintly bemused expression on his tanned face.

"Dr. Perlman," John said.

"In the flesh," said the Israeli doctor. "Dr. Weir said you and Dr. McKay needed a little help down here."

"I'm fine. Rodney's the one who needs help," John said, and waved an arm in the physicist's direction. "Look, Doc, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I was kind of expecting Carson."

Itzhak Perlman grinned at him. "No offense taken, Colonel. I get that reaction a lot," he said. "The last I heard, Dr. Beckett was on his way back from the mainland."

John exhaled noisily. "Is _everybody_ on the mainland today, or what?"

"As far as I know, only Dr. Beckett, Teyla and Radek went to the mainland today. They might've had some passengers. I think Halling was here."

"Right," John said. "Let's hope they get back, soon. Can you do something for Rodney?"

Itzhak was already moving across the room. He stared at the contraption in which Rodney was caught. "Colonel, what in God's name is _this_?"

"We think it might be a game."

"Dangerous game," Itzhak said. "Can you get him out of there?"

"I've tried. Rodney and I both tried, actually," John said. He took a step toward Itzhak. "Doc, I wouldn't touch it, if I were you."

Itzhak had been about to reach for the device, but he pulled his hand back. 'Why? What's the matter?"

"It gave me a pretty good jolt when I touched it."

"A jolt? Of electricity?"

"That's what it felt like. I think Rodney got an even bigger shock when he grabbed those handle things on the side of the machine. Enough of a jolt to knock him out."

"I'm glad you told me that. Is there any way to turn the machine off?"

"There's no plug to pull, if that's what you're asking," John said. "Maybe we could pull the crystals out, or something, but since I don't know what I'm doing in the crystal department, I'd rather not. Elizabeth's supposed to be getting in contact with Dr. Zelenka. I'm hoping he can figure it out when he gets here."

I'm sure he can," said Itzhak. "Radek is good with Ancient puzzles like this."

"Is there anything you can do for Rodney while we're waiting?"

"I can keep monitoring his vital signs," Itzhak said, "but there isn't much more I can do for him until we get him out of this machine."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Look," mini-Elizabeth said.

Mini-Elizabeth opened the white door and gestured for Rodney to look into the doorway. Through the opening, Rodney saw green grass, trees, and sunshine, swings and slides and a jungle gym. At least a dozen kids were playing in the little park. Some of them were swinging or climbing. A few of them appeared to be playing tag. Rodney peered at the scene suspiciously.

"Am I creating this?"

"Yes," said mini-Elizabeth.

"This park was across the street from my elementary school."

"Yes."

"I don't have to go in there, do I?"

"You _can't_ go in there. You have to pass the first level of The Game, first. Once you pass, then you can go through the door."

"Look, Elizabeth, is there any way to get out of here?"

"Going through the door is the way to leave this room."

"That's not what I mean," Rodney said impatiently. "I'm talking about The Game. Is there any way for me to leave The Game?"

"Why would you want to leave The Game? You haven't even played the first level, yet. Wait here. I will see you at the beginning of the next level, Rodney McKay."

"Wait—"

Mini-Elizabeth stepped through the door, into the playground on the other side. Rodney watched her trot across the grass to where another girl and a boy were sitting under a tree. The boy looked to be about the same age as mini-Elizabeth. The other girl was no more than a toddler. She was leaning against the boy, but her attention wasn't on him. She appeared to be concentrating on the toy 'jumper that zoomed expertly around the lower branches of the tree.

The boy and mini-Elizabeth conducted a short conversation which Rodney couldn't hear. When they were done, mini-Elizabeth skipped off toward the nearest slide. The boy got to his feet, lifted the toddler in his arms, and started toward the door.

The boy was thin to the point of being scrawny, and his shaggy golden-brown hair was in desperate need of trimming. Behind his glasses, the boy's eyes sparkled with untold mischief.

Once they'd passed through the portal into the white room, the boy set the toddler down. Like the boy's hair, the little girl's hair was also light brown, though hers fell in ringlets nearly to her waist. She looked like a living china doll in her ruffled green dress and matching hair ribbons. The only thing that marred the china doll image was the toy 'jumper that cruised along beside her.

"Hello, Rodney," the boy said. He had a peculiar accent.

Rodney felt like pinching himself, but he realized it'd be no use. He already knew he was dreaming. This was a veritable nightmare from which he couldn't seem to be able to wake.

He said, "Radek?"

The boy smiled, and pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. "I'm glad you recognize me," he said.

Rodney let his gaze move away from mini-Radek and back to the little girl, who calmly sucked her thumb while the tiny 'jumper flew in lazy circles around her head. She stared at Rodney with curious, innocent eyes.

"Oh no," Rodney said. The little girl's identity had come to him with jarring clarity. "No, no, no, no…. If he's Radek, then you've got to be—"

"She is with me. That is all you need to know," said mini-Radek. He waved his hand and the air in front of Rodney's face shimmered. "The first level is puzzle. I know you are very good at puzzles. This shouldn't be difficult for you at all."

_Famous last words_, thought Rodney, as mini-Radek's puzzle began to coalesce before his eyes.

**TBC  
--------------------**

**A/N #2 – **For anyone who's interested, I'll most likely update my other work-in-progress this weekend, probably by Sunday. I promise I won't keep you hanging for too long with this one, though. Take care, all! -hugs-


	4. Twists And Turns

**DISCLAIMER – **I don't own _Stargate: Atlantis_. It is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am making no money from this, and no copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of fan fiction only.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character.

**RATING – **This story is rated **K+**

**ARCHIVE – **Feel free to archive this story, only please tell me where you're putting it. Thanks!

**A/N – **Wow…I'm really sorry it has taken so long for me to continue this story! I've been working on my other one, which is nearly finished now, so I should have a bit more time to devote to this one. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and leaving me such fab comments. Thank you also for waiting patiently for this story to be continued. Enjoy!

I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**4. Twists And Turns**

After having examined Rodney to the best of his ability, Itzhak had concluded that although the physicist was unconscious, he was in no other physical danger for the moment. John had been relieved to hear that, glad to know the machine wasn't doing anything fatal to Rodney's body. He was still worried about what the thing might be doing to his friend's mind, though. Itzhak had frowned when John asked him about that, and had said he didn't know. There was really no way of determining that until they could free Rodney from the device and get him to the Infirmary. John knew Itzhak was frustrated at not being able to do more for his patient. John was frustrated, too.

John watched Itzhak prowl around the room. Apparently the good doctor was not only bothered by his lack of ability to help, but was also just as intolerant of waiting as John himself. Itzhak picked up various objects from the tables, examined them briefly, and returned them to their places, all the while muttering to himself in a language John couldn't comprehend.

In spite of the circumstances, John grinned. He'd heard more languages since his arrival in Atlantis than he'd heard in the entirety of his life before coming to the Pegasus galaxy. He was getting pretty good at interpreting what people meant, even if he didn't always understand the words they were saying. Sometimes, the simple fact that somebody had reverted to his first language told a lot about their emotional state. The unflappable Itzhak Perlman spoke practically flawless English, with only the slightest trace of an accent to make it interesting. John had never heard him use a language other than English before, and if he was doing so now, John guessed that along with being frustrated, he must also be very perplexed.

Itzhak scooped up yet another object from the table and studied it, while John observed him from a distance. The doctor turned the thing over and over in his hands, rambling quietly as he did so. John had the whimsical thought that Itzhak was addressing the object more than he was talking to himself. After several seconds, he carried the small, grey cube-shaped object across the room and showed it to John.

"Colonel, do you know what this is?" Itzhak asked.

"Uh…Doc, I don't mean to sound like your babysitter or anything, but if you don't know what it's for and you don't know what you're doing, you probably shouldn't touch it."

"A rule that you and Dr. McKay follow assiduously, right?"

"Rodney usually knows what he's doing."

"Ah…I see," Itzhak said. He grinned. "Usually."

"This isn't funny, you know."

"I'm not laughing," said Itzhak. He ran his fingers over the palm-sized object he held. "Doesn't this remind you of Rubik's Cube?"

"Ancient Rubik's Cube? Look, maybe you should put it down before it starts glowing."

"I don't think it's going to glow. I haven't got the ATA gene."

The doctor began fiddling with the toy, carefully twisting the moveable parts. John decided it did kind of resemble Rubik's Cube, except that instead of being different colours, the smaller squares that made up the larger puzzle were printed with various Ancient symbols. Maybe it was harmless. It looked innocuous enough, but then, so did the machine that had captured Rodney.

John went back to the machine in question, which was still holding his friend in its metallic clutches. He was beginning to wonder if the device really was a game or a toy. What sort of people invented a game that rendered the user unconscious by zapping them with energy? Games weren't supposed to do that.

Weapons did that.

Suddenly, John was struck by the horrible thought that perhaps the place they were in wasn't an Ancient toy store after all. Maybe it was some kind of war room or weapons-testing laboratory. Maybe the purpose of the model Atlantis and the tiny realistic 'jumpers was for battle simulation. Maybe the device that had seized Rodney was some sort of elaborate trap

Intending to share this new theory with Itzhak, John turned, only to discover the Israeli doctor still playing with the cube.

"Uh…Doc?" John began.

'I think I've got this side figured out."

"I really don't think you should be playing with that thing."

"Why not?"

"Because," John said. "It might be a weapon."

"A weapon?" Itzhak peered at him with mingled curiosity and concern. "It doesn't look like a weapon."

"Neither does the thing that got Rodney, but it grabbed him by the head and knocked him out, didn't it?"

"I see your point, but how could this be—"

A weird noise from the vicinity of the door made both men jump. Itzhak dropped the cube as if it were white-hot. When John's eyes met the doctor's, he could see his own trepidation reflected there.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As mini-Radek had predicted, the first level of the game was no trouble at all. In Rodney's view, it was actually a ridiculously simple puzzle. He'd been required to unscramble a series of tiles with Ancient numbers on them so they formed a logical sequence. Rodney had played number games like that when he'd been in the early grades of elementary school. He could do them in his sleep by now.

For his part, mini-Radek did not seem the least bit surprised at how quickly Rodney had solved the puzzle. Rodney got the feeling that no one really failed to pass the first level of The Game, and that the number puzzle was really meant to lull players into a false sense of security. The subsequent levels had to be progressively harder; otherwise, there would be no challenge to The Game at all. There wouldn't be any point in playing it.

The completed number puzzle vanished when mini-Radek waved his hand over it. He grinned at Rodney, which made Rodney instantly suspicious.

"So, what happens now?" Rodney asked.

"Now," mini-Radek said. "You may leave this room or you may begin the next level immediately. The choice is up to you."

The thought of passing through the door and entering the playground on the other side didn't appeal to Rodney in the slightest. He said, "What's the next level?"

"The next level is maze," mini-Radek told him. "Do you want to begin now?"

"Can you answer some questions first?"

"Of course."

"Do I have the option of quitting The Game if I want to?"

"Yes."

"Perfect. Now we're getting somewhere. How do I do that?"

"To leave The Game, you must consciously think about leaving it."

"Okay, there might be a bit of a problem with that," Rodney said. "I've already tried to think the machine off, but I couldn't do it."

Mini-Radek frowned. "That is very odd."

"Is there a way to shut the device off? You know, from out there in the real world."

"No one has ever deactivated the device with player inside," mini-Radek said.

"So, you're saying it's not possible?"

"I am saying I'm not sure about whether it is possible or not. No one has ever turned the device off with player inside."

"All right," Rodney said. "If it is possible, you'll figure it out."

"I only have your knowledge and what is stored in the memory of The Game. I do not exist outside your game, Rodney."

"No, no, no, no…the _real_ you!" Rodney blurted. "Obviously, I'm talking about Radek, because you're not really Radek, are you? I mean, you're just a figment of my imagination and you're all of what…seven years old? God, I can't believe I'm talking to a hallucination…_again._ This is crazy! It's just—"

"Rodney?"

"What?"

"Would you like to begin the next level?"

Rodney flung his hands outward in a gesture of exasperation. What he really would have liked was to be able to get out of there, but since he hadn't had much success in doing that so far, he figured he ought to play along for a while. Given his options, finding his way through a maze seemed far less daunting than facing whatever challenge lay beyond the door in the playground full of rowdy children. Besides, mini-Radek seemed a lot more sensible and straightforward than mini-Elizabeth. Maybe if Rodney kept asking questions, he'd eventually discover a way to free himself.

"Why not?" he said to mini-Radek. "Let's begin the next level."

Just as he'd done before, mini-Radek waved his hand through empty air and caused it to shimmer. This time, instead of a puzzle appearing, another door formed. The door wasn't white like the first one, but more closely resembled the ones in Atlantis. Mini-Radek lifted the silent toddler from where she sat, and carried her toward the new doorway. The tiny 'jumper continued to sail along beside the girl.

"Follow us," mini-Radek said.

Rodney followed.

The door led into a second room. This one was grey and equally as featureless as the place they'd just left. Rodney was unimpressed to discover mini-Elizabeth was waiting for them inside the grey room. He couldn't say why, but the seven-year-old version of Elizabeth Weir creeped him out. He had a hard time believing he was creating this image of her. Only in his nightmares would he conjure up an environment where he was the only adult. This was worse than being on that planet with all the kids. At least he could walk through the Stargate to get away from the planet.

"Hello, Rodney," mini-Elizabeth said. "Welcome to the second level. You will have three chances to complete the maze."

"What happens if I don't complete the maze after three tries?" Rodney asked.

"The Game ends," mini-Elizabeth said.

"The Game ends and I can get out?"

"The Game ends," she repeated.

_Just great,_ Rodney muttered to himself. He thought he might as well face the fact that he was never going to get a straight answer out of mini-Elizabeth. The real Elizabeth wouldn't avoid answering his questions, and Rodney would have pointed that out to the girl if he believed it would have done any good.

"Okay, fine," Rodney said. "Where's the maze?"

"Here," mini-Radek said, as the room began to dissolve around them. He gestured at the little ship that hovered beside the toddler's head. "Take the 'jumper."

Rodney reached to pluck the toy 'jumper from the air. Mini-Elizabeth took a step toward him, her own hand upraised. "No," she said. "Fly it with your mind."

Rodney concentrated on the 'jumper, and miraculously, it soared away from the little girl and toward him instead. He found it was just as hard to fly the toy 'jumper as it was to fly a real one, and he had to focus a lot of mental energy on it.

While Rodney practiced flying the toy 'jumper, the room was reforming itself into a life-sized three dimensional maze. Rodney wondered if he was supposed to walk through the maze while keeping the little ship in the air. He was about to ask when a bright flash of light flared in the room, temporarily obscuring his vision. The light was accompanied by a rushing sound, like the _kawhoosh_ of an opening Stargate.

When Rodney's eyesight cleared, he looked around. Mini-Elizabeth had disappeared somewhere, and so had the toy spacecraft. Rodney saw that he was now sitting in the pilot's seat of a very realistic, full-sized 'jumper. Perched in the co-pilot's seat was mini-Radek. The little girl was sitting on mini-Radek's lap, happily eating what looked suspiciously like a power bar.

Rodney briefly considered trying to imagine a power bar for himself, before he concluded there would be no point. A virtual power bar would do nothing for his very real hypoglycaemia. He glanced at mini-Radek.

"So, now what?" he said.

"Bring up the HUD. See what the maze looks like," mini-Radek told him. "The object is to begin here and fly through the maze until you reach the exit."

Well, this was more of a challenge than the number puzzle, but it still didn't seem overly complex. Rodney mentally called the 'jumper's heads-up display into existence and studied the picture of the maze that appeared.

_It's just a _maze, he said to himself. _How hard could it be?_

**TBC  
--------------------**


	5. A Dangerous Game

**DISCLAIMER – **I do not own _Stargate: Atlantis._ It belongs to MGM/UA and associates. This is a work of fan fiction. I am making no money from it and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character.

**RATING – **This story is rated** K+**

**ARCHIVE – **Feel free to archive this story if you'd like. I only ask that you let me know where it is archived. Thanks!

**A/N – **I'm amazed at how many people are reading this story! Wow! Huge thanks to all who are reading and especially to the reviewers. I love those reviews and comments, so if you're enjoying this story, please let me know about it. I have decided to keep the chapters very short in this story, unlike my other WIP. Shorter chapters are more manageable and make for more frequent updates, too. Enjoy!

I have no beta, so any mistakes you find are mine.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**5. A Dangerous Game**

"Did you hear that?" said John. "Please tell me you heard it, and that I'm not going crazy."

"You're not going crazy. I heard something, too," Itzhak said. "It sounded like…a Stargate? You know, that _kawhoosh_ sound it makes when the event horizon appears? It sounded like that."

"Yeah," said John. "That's exactly what it sounded like to me, too."

"How could we hear something like that? We've got to be several levels below the 'Gate room."

John turned in a slow circle, getting a view of every part of the place they were in. As far as he could tell, nothing had changed in the last few minutes. The noise he and Itzhak heard had seemed to originate from the area near the door, but John couldn't see anything there that might've produced it.

"Doc, do you believe in ghosts?" John asked.

"Not really," said Itzhak. "Do you?"

"No," John said.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking there's more going on around here than meets the eye, and I'd really like to figure out what it is."

Itzhak bent and retrieved the Ancient cube from the floor. He rubbed his thumb over the symbols engraved on it. "You don't think this has anything to do with it, do you?"

"I don't know."

"I'm going to check on Dr. McKay again," Itzhak said. He placed the cube on the nearest table and started across the room to Rodney's machine. "How long do you suppose it will be before Radek and Carson get here?"

"It takes a good pilot twenty-five minutes to fly to Atlantis from the mainland."

"Isn't Carson a good pilot?"

"He's not Air Force material, but I've seen a lot worse than him," John said. He watched the doctor at work for several moments. "Hey, how long do you think Rodney can stay stuck in that thing and still be relatively safe?"

"If nothing changes, I think he'll be physically safe for a few hours."

"What happens after that?"

"Let's hope he'll be out of here before we have to find out," Itzhak said.

John was smart enough to realize that statement was doctor-speak for _you really don't want to know_. He decided not to press the doctor into telling him, because he got the feeling Itzhak himself wasn't entirely comfortable thinking about the possibility of what might happen to Rodney if they couldn't free him from the machine.

While Itzhak finished checking Rodney's vital signs, John made yet another circuit of the room, trying to identify anything that might be responsible for the _kawhoosh_. He even inspected the miniature Stargate on the pedestal next to the scaled-down Atlantis. He was just about to return the little 'Gate to its place on the table when an unmistakable whine filled his ears.

"Colonel!" Itzhak yelled. "Get down!"

Instinct made John dive for cover under the nearest table. A quick glance across the room revealed Itzhak in a similar position.

"What the hell was that?" John exclaimed. "It sounded like a—"

"A Wraith dart," Itzhak said.

John peered toward the ceiling. "I don't see anything. Do you?"

"No, but I definitely heard it."

"Me too," John said.

They were both silent for seconds that felt like hours. Finally, Itzhak inched his way out from his hiding place and stood up. "Colonel, we really need to get out of this room. Now."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"You didn't tell me there were going to be _Wraith_ in here!" Rodney shouted at the little boy in the co-pilot's chair. The whine of the dart vibrated in Rodney's ears as the streamlined enemy ship flew toward the 'jumper. "What kind of a game is this, anyway? You didn't tell me I might get _killed_!"

"You won't get killed," mini-Radek said. "There is only one dart."

Rodney couldn't fathom how the boy could be so relaxed, how he could just sit there, sharing the girl's power bar and acting as if they were all out for the proverbial Sunday drive.

"One dart is enough to kill me!" Rodney yelled.

"It cannot kill you. It isn't real," said mini-Radek, and calmly put the last bite of power bar into his mouth. Around the mouthful, he said. "You could try shooting it down, Rodney."

"Yes, yes…good thinking. What happens if I can't—"

"I do not think you have time to ask me that question," mini-Radek said.

"Why not? I—"

Rodney's aborted question turned into a most undignified scream as the 'jumper shuddered violently. Rodney was sure he could hear the sound of an explosion. He saw a brilliant flare of light, but he felt nothing.

_I should be dead_, he thought.

He opened his eyes to total blackness.

His very next thought was _I'm blind!_ His heart began to race, and he could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate. Off to his right, he heard mini-Radek's voice.

"Rodney."

"I can't see!" Rodney gasped.

A tiny hand brushed against his cheek; a tiny, sticky hand. Rodney jerked away from the touch, suddenly aware that the grimy little fingers belonged not to the boy but to the toddler.

"It's okay," mini-Radek said. "You will be able to see in a moment."

"What just happened?"

"You failed to pass the second level. You have two more chances to complete it before The Game ends."

"Yeah, about that," Rodney said. "Why wouldn't Elizabeth tell me what that means? When The Game ends, what happens?"

"Nothing," said mini-Radek. "The Game ends. Can you see now?"

Rodney blinked several times and rubbed at his eyes. His vision was fuzzy but it was returning, thank God. He said, "When The Game ends, will the device release my body?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it? There is no need to be in the device if you aren't playing The Game."

"So, all I have to do is wash out of this level, and I'm a free man?"

"Yes. Would you like to begin the level again?"

"What do you think?"

mini-Radek smiled. With a wave of his small hand, the three of them were back in the cockpit of the 'jumper, hovering at the entrance to the three dimensional maze.

**TBC**

**--------------------**


	6. Doom With A View

**DISCLAIMER – **I do not own _Stargate: Atlantis_. It is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am writing this story for fun and I am not making any money from it.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character.

**RATING – **Story rated **K+**

**ARCHIVE – **You have my permission to archive this story if you wish. All I ask is that you let me know where it is being archived. Thanks!

**A/N – **Yay! I am so happy with the responses this story has been getting! You guys are making me do the happy dance, here, seriously. For those of you who pointed out that it couldn't possibly be _that_ easy for Rodney to exit The Game, let me just say a solution that sounds too good to be true usually is. There's plenty more of this story to come. Enjoy!

I have no beta. If you spot any mistakes, I made them.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**6. Doom With A View**

John would've been only too glad to get out of the room if it hadn't been for the fact that his best friend was unable to vacate the premises along with him. John Sheppard operated by the rule that no one ever got left behind. The only way he was going to exit this room would be in company with Itzhak _and _Rodney, no matter what.

"We can't leave Rodney alone," John said.

The doctor looked scared. Admittedly, John didn't know the man as well as he knew some of the other Atlantis expedition members, but he was pretty sure 'scared' wasn't on the top ten list of Itzhak's usual emotions. Itzhak Perlman had a reputation for being reliably level-headed in a crisis. This situation was definitely problematic, but it hadn't nearly reached the level of crisis, yet. The sight of the notoriously unshakeable Dr. Perlman visibly shaking was, in John's opinion, a very bad sign.

"There's something in here," Itzhak said.

"Which is exactly why we can't leave," said John. "There's no way I'm leaving Rodney alone in here with…whatever it is."

Itzhak looked as if he wanted to protest, but to his credit, he didn't try to argue. He folded his arms across his body in a self-protecting gesture, and said, "Do you think it's getting colder?"

"Maybe, a little, now that you mention it," John said. "What do you think is causing it?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe it's not really getting colder. Maybe we only think it is."

"What do you mean?"

"We thought we heard a Stargate _kawhoosh_, and we thought we heard a Wraith dart," John said. 'Maybe we're imagining we're cold."

"I'm not imagining it," Itzhak said as he rubbed his forearms briskly. 'I _am_ cold. Very cold. The temperature's dropping rapidly in here, Colonel."

John frowned. The ambient temperature in the room was somewhat cooler than John considered comfortable, but it certainly wasn't dropping rapidly. "Do you want my jacket?" he asked Itzhak.

"We can't stay here."

"We're not leaving," John said, as he began to shrug out of his jacket. "When Carson gets here, then you can go, all right? For now, you need to stay here, in case something happens."

"Colonel, there's nothing I can do for Dr. McKay. I told you that already."

"I know, you said there's nothing you can do until we get him free from the device, but you also said it was important to keep monitoring his vital signs. Remember?"

Itzhak nodded. "I remember."

"Good. Here, put my jacket on. Do you have one of those silver blankets in your medical kit?"

"An emergency blanket? Yes."

"I'm going to get it for you," John said, even as he moved toward the spot where Itzhak had left his bag of medical supplies. He poked around in the doctor's black carry-all and found the thin, silvery blanket in one of the larger outside pockets. He carried it back to his colleague, unfolding it on the way.

"Thanks," Itzhak said, as John draped the blanket awkwardly around his shoulders.

"Don't mention it," John said. "Other than being cold, do you feel okay?"

"I think so. It's just…" Itzhak's voice trailed off and John saw the doctor's eyes widen in what the colonel could only describe as panic. With the hand that wasn't keeping the emergency blanket in place, Itzhak pointed toward the door. "Colonel…behind you…"

"What?"

"Wraith," the doctor whispered.

"What!"

John whirled around to discover what new horror might be awaiting him. He hadn't heard the door open, but he was beginning to think that didn't really matter in this room. He was fully expecting to come face-to-face with a Wraith, and wished frantically that he'd brought a weapon other than his sidearm. He pulled the weapon from its holster on his thigh.

He was aiming at nothing.

The spot where the doctor had been pointing was completely devoid of Wraith or any other dangerous aliens. In fact, the room still appeared completely unchanged to John's senses. The air was marginally cooler, perhaps, but John didn't see, hear or smell anything out of the ordinary.

John returned his weapon to its place and faced Itzhak again. The doctor was trembling, whether from fear or from perceived cold, John couldn't be sure. He reached out and touched Itzhak's arm.

"Doc?"

"Did you see it?"

"I didn't see anything, Doc," John said. "There's nothing there. I think it was a hallucination, just like before."

"It didn't look like a hallucination."

"Some hallucinations can look pretty damn real," John said. "Trust me, there are no Wraith in this room. No darts. No active Stargates."

"Are you sure you didn't see anything?"

"Positive," John said.

"This doesn't make sense. We both heard the Stargate and the dart," Itzhak said. "Why didn't you see the Wraith?"

"Maybe for the same reason I'm not cold and you are."

"Oh," Itzhak said ineloquently. He sat down on the floor and pulled the blanket more closely around himself. "I knew today wasn't going to be one of my better days. You ever have one of those mornings when you wake up feeling like it'd be a bad idea to get out of bed? I'm having one today. Really."

_Ironic_, John thought. He'd actually awakened this morning in a confident mood, ready to take on anything. Of course, his definition of 'anything' hadn't exactly included hallucinating, or letting his best friend get trapped in some kind of killer machine. Now that he was thinking about it, John decided this wasn't turning out to be one of his better days, either.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

This time around, Rodney was ready for the Wraith dart.

It was a well-honed sense of vengeance that made him want to destroy it. Intellectually, he understood it wasn't a real dart, and there was no real Wraith inside it. He also realized that if he let the dart destroy him, he'd be that much closer to washing out of the second level of The Game. The urge to shoot down the dart, however, was overpowering because, after all, it had 'killed' him during his first attempt at getting through this level.

Rodney unleashed a drone at the small Wraith ship. He observed with a wicked satisfaction as the drone found its mark and the dart exploded in a spectacular fashion.

Rodney's little passengers clapped and cheered. The girl – Rodney had come to the conclusion that she was a version of Radek's real-world adopted daughter Shadow – magically produced a power bar from thin air and held it out toward Rodney. He guessed it was a congratulatory offering. That was something like the real Shadow would do. Even though he knew it wasn't real, Rodney accepted the power bar, unwrapped it and began to eat it.

It tasted real.

It was peanut butter flavoured.

_This is weird, _Rodney thought. _How can I be tasting this if it's just a figment of my imagination?_ He was sufficiently distracted by the idea of being able to imagine the taste of a peanut butter flavoured power bar that he temporarily forgot he was supposed to be looking for a way to fail his second attempt at the maze.

He wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. This was, perhaps, the first time in his life that he'd ever set out purposely to _fail_ at something. He wondered what John Sheppard would have to say about that. No doubt the colonel would have more than one smart-ass comment. He'd probably have a few ideas about how to get out of this level of The Game, too. Rodney tried to decide what John might do, if he were in this situation.

Maybe he'd just go kamikaze and fly the 'jumper straight into the nearest wall.

Rodney glanced sideways at the two little kids who were sitting together in the co-pilot's seat. He might've considered crashing the 'jumper into a wall if it weren't for them. Even though he was perfectly aware that they were game constructs and not actual people, he couldn't bring himself to crash the 'jumper on purpose with them in it. He'd just have to wait for some other obstacle in the maze to take care of the problem.

He consulted the heads-up display to check his progress through the maze. At the next set of intersecting tunnels, he'd need to turn left, and then keep going straight until he came to a T-shaped intersection. He'd have to turn right, there. He wondered if they'd meet any other obstacles before they reached that point.

To fill the silence that had descended in the 'jumper, Rodney decided to try getting some more information about The Game.

"So," he began conversationally. "After this level, how many more are there?"

He was surprised when it wasn't mini-Radek who answered his question. Mini-Shadow smiled angelically at him and held up one delicate hand with four fingers extended. Rodney stared at her. He knew his jaw must be slack with shock.

Mini-Radek gave him a quizzical look. "Rodney, what's the matter?"

"She can _hear_ me?" Rodney blurted, gesturing at mini-Shadow.

"Of course," mini-Radek said. "Why shouldn't she be able to?"

"Well…uh…she's deaf," Rodney stammered. "In real life, she can't hear or speak."

"The person she represents is deaf outside The Game. Inside, we are how you create us," mini-Radek said. "Your image of her is capable of hearing and speaking."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh," mini-Shadow said.

"We appear as you create us," mini-Radek affirmed.

"Does that mean I can recreate you, too?" Rodney asked.

"In what way?"

"Can I make you into adults?"

"No."

_Well, it was worth a shot. _"Okay, so there are six levels altogether. Does every player get the same puzzles and mazes to solve?"

"Only the first two levels are the same. Every player must solve the number puzzle and pass through the maze," mini-Radek said. "After that, every player's game is different."

"How?"

"You should concentrate on flying."

The admonition startled Rodney into attentiveness. He glanced at the HUD and realized that he'd kept flying straight when he should have turned left. Now, they were soaring straight into a dead end, headed directly for a wall.

"Crap!" Rodney exclaimed, as he involuntarily tensed in anticipation of the impact. In a panic, he mentally commanded the 'jumper _stop, stop, STOP!_

The ship slowed to a halt less than a metre from the wall.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When the doors parted to admit Radek Zelenka into the room, John felt like cheering. The Czech engineer looked dishevelled and more frazzled than usual, but still, John was more than glad to see him. Radek was carrying his laptop computer and a large box which John assumed contained tools and diagnostic equipment. The engineer had, evidently, arrived fully prepared. That was comforting to John. With any luck, Radek would quickly determine how to shut off the machine and get Rodney out.

At the moment, John was less worried about Rodney than he was about Itzhak. The Israeli doctor hadn't moved from the spot where he'd first sat down. John had coaxed and cajoled and ordered him to get up and move around, hoping that a bit of activity would warm him up, but Itzhak had refused to do anything. John guessed he was still seeing things and hearing things, because he looked utterly terrified. At one point, he'd covered his head and yelled frantically at John that there'd been an explosion. Coincidentally, John had also heard a loud noise, but his own hallucination didn't seem to be nearly as vivid as Itzhak's had been.

Radek's gaze travelled around the room. Worry creased his features when he saw Rodney and the machine that held him captive, but it was the sight of Itzhak Perlman on the floor, huddled in the silvery emergency blanket that pulled a small gasp from him.

"Colonel Sheppard, what happened?" Radek asked. "I thought it was only Rodney who needed help."

"Well, that's how it started," said John, from where he was kneeling next to Itzhak on the floor. "We've been…uh…hearing things."

"What sort of things?"

"War," said Itzhak, in a thin voice that didn't sound a thing like his normal tone. "I hear war."

"Radek, where's Carson?" John said.

Radek frowned. "He was right behind me."

"Then, he should be here."

"Yes," Radek agreed. He set down his tool box and went back to the door. When he tried to open it, nothing happened. He glanced over his shoulder at John. "Colonel?"

John got up and hurried over to join the engineer. He passed his own hand in front of the door sensor, but his results weren't any better than Radek's. The door was not going to open. John groaned in disgust.

"Great, just great," he said. "Just when I thought this day couldn't possibly get any worse."

**TBC  
---------------**


	7. Blurred Reality Lines

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is the property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not receiving compensation of any type, from any source, for the creation of this story. This is a work of fan fiction, created for the sole purpose of personal enjoyment.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character.

**RATING – **Due to violence, implied violence and other mature subject matter, I have changed the rating of this story to **T**

**ARCHIVE – **Feel free to add this story to any archives you want. All I ask is that you let me know where it is being archived. Thanks!

**A/N – **I just have to say I'm thrilled to death with all the responses this story is getting. When I started out writing it, I honestly didn't know if people would like it. I am so glad to see that people are enjoying it! Keep those amazing comments coming, because they encourage me more than you know. I appreciate each and every one who reads and replies to my work. Thank you!

This chapter is a bit longer than the others, and I've added Carson as a new POV character because I needed a third perspective for later chapters, though the main POV characters are still John and Rodney. Enjoy!

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**7. Blurred Reality Lines**

_This room is out to get us_, John thought as he watched Radek tinkering with the crystals that controlled the door. The engineer looked more annoyed than anything else. John guessed he probably considered it an inconvenience, having to work on a stubborn door when there was something more important that needed his attention. John would have told him not to bother with the door just then if it hadn't been for the fact that Carson Beckett was on the other side of it. They needed Carson, especially considering the physical and mental state of the doctor who was currently in the room with them.

Shortly after discovering the door wouldn't open, John and Radek had heard Carson shouting from the corridor. Deciding his radio would be a more decorous way to communicate, John explained that they _knew_ the door was stuck, they were working on it. Would Carson please be patient? Carson's voice over the radio sounded slightly embarrassed. Yes, of course he'd wait.

While Radek attempted to work his magic on the door, John checked on the room's other occupants. To John's untrained eye, Rodney seemed largely unchanged. Itzhak's condition was another matter entirely.

It didn't require the knowledge behind a medical degree to figure out that the man was in trouble. Itzhak still acted as if he was extremely cold. Huddled in his blanket with only his face showing, he stared fixedly at something John could not see. When John knelt beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder, the doctor let out an inarticulate yell and scuttled away from him.

The sound drew Radek's concentration away from what he was doing. He looked over his shoulder at John and Itzhak.

"What did you do to him?" Radek asked John.

John held up his hands. "Nothing," he said. "I was only trying to see if he's okay."

"He doesn't look okay."

"He's cold."

"How can he be cold? This room is exceptionally warm. I've noticed temperature increasing since I got here.

The last thing John wanted to hear was that Radek thought the room was rapidly becoming hotter. That was a bit too much like hearing Itzhak say the temperature was dropping perceptibly. John hadn't noticed any major fluctuations in temperature himself.

He had a terrible mental image of Radek ending up in a similar position to Itzhak, suffering from the perceived extreme temperature and terrified by things only he could hear and see. Distractedly, John wondered if it was possible for somebody to be literally frightened to death and if a hallucination could kill a person if they sincerely believed it was real.

John fixed the engineer with an appraising look. "This might sound like a really weird question, but you're not seeing anything strange, are you?"

"I see lots of strange things here, Colonel."

"Okay, let me rephrase that. Are you hearing any explosions or seeing the Wraith?"

"No…" Radek elongated the single syllable. "I thought I heard running water, like a river, but I didn't see Wraith."

"Well…just let me know if you do, okay?"

"Okay." Radek seemed dubious. 'If I see Wraith, I'll tell you."

"If you see or hear anything unusual, tell me," John said.

"I will," Radek said. He went back to working on the door. Only half a minute passed before John heard him speak again. "Colonel Sheppard?"

"Yeah," John said.

"Should I tell you if I _feel_ something?"

"Such as?"

"I felt someone touch my hand."

"Just now?"

"Yes," Radek said. "It was just the way Shadow does it when she wants to get my attention. She always—"

The engineer's sentence faded into silence as John watched him turn and peer at something invisible to John's eyes. Radek seemed confused, as if what he was seeing didn't quite match with what he knew to be the truth.

"Radek…?" John prompted him.

The engineer blinked and deliberately shook his head. "Sorry."

"What did you see?"

"Trees," Radek said. "For a moment, I thought I was outside, but that can't be right. We can't even _see_ outside from this room, and the nearest trees are on the mainland."

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Radek, we need to get the door open before we both end up like Dr. Perlman."

"Did Itzhak see and hear things before he became…like that?"

"I think he's still seeing and hearing things," John said. He glanced at Itzhak, who'd managed to move so that he was half under a table. "I'm not sure if he's fully aware of us or his actual surroundings any more."

"Do you really think that will happen to us?"

"I don't know," John said. "Let's just hope we're all out of here long before we reach that stage."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Rodney shot down two more Wraith darts before he reached the centre of the maze. Each time he scored a hit on the little enemy ships, he experienced a personal thrill of victory like nothing he'd ever felt in his non-virtual reality. Destroying the darts empowered him to a degree that surpassed mere ego. He felt positively heroic. Of course he _knew_ the darts weren't real, but when they were flying at him and he was launching drones at them, it was hard to reconcile what he knew with what he believed he saw.

He hadn't forgotten he was supposed to be looking for a way to exit The Game, but he'd already decided he wouldn't let another Wraith survive long enough to get near him, virtual or not. Part of him didn't even care that the Wraith were game constructs. Blowing them up was the only logical option, as far as Rodney was concerned.

Leaving the debris of the final dart in the wake of his 'jumper, Rodney piloted the small craft down the last hundred metres of tunnel that led to the middle of the maze. The map on the heads-up display identified the maze's centre as one enormous open space. What the HUD didn't show him were the hundreds of black spheres which hung suspended in midair throughout the large central chamber.

_Hover_, Rodney commanded the 'jumper. Obediently, the ship glided to a stop and remained as motionless as the black spheres. Rodney stared at the spheres for several seconds before turning his eyes toward his two passengers.

"Okay, what are those things out there?" he demanded.

"Mines," mini-Radek told him.

"Mines?" Rodney echoed. "As in, weapons that kill you by means of a massive, fiery explosion if you get too close?"

"Yes."

"Oh, that's comforting," Rodney said. "Let me guess. I'm supposed to fly through them to get to the other side, right? How am I supposed to navigate through a minefield?"

"Very carefully," said mini-Radek. "You can do it, Rodney. You destroyed all the darts."

"That's different."

"How is it different?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not the best 'jumper pilot around," Rodney said testily. "Besides, I _wanted_ to kill the Wraith. Maybe I didn't mention it, but I don't like putting myself into situations that could lead to my demise. I really don't want to risk my own death by flying through a minefield."

"Your death in The Game is virtual. You aren't risking anything, yet."

"Yet?"

"You wish to succeed at The Game, don't you?"

"Well…no," Rodney said. "I mean, maybe if I knew more about it—"

"You can ask me everything you wish to know," said mini-Radek.

"I don't think you're programmed to tell me _everything_ I want to know," said Rodney. "If I asked you the best course to take through the minefield, you wouldn't tell me that, would you?"

"That would defeat the challenge of solving the problem by yourself."

"Right," Rodney said. He drew in a lungful of air and exhaled slowly. "Well, here goes nothing. Remember, you were the one who said I could fly through this mess, so don't blame me if we end up meeting our virtual maker."

"I would never blame you, Rodney," mini-Radek said. "Shadow and I trust you."

Rodney didn't bother to say that he thought mini-Radek's trust was grossly misplaced. He eased the 'jumper out of the mouth of the tunnel and into the mine-laden central area of the maze. Using both visual judgment and information from the heads-up display, Rodney navigated the 'jumper over and around the mines. He was sure his heart stopped momentarily each time one of the bombs exploded anywhere near his ship.

He realized he was using up an incredible amount of physical and mental energy, concentrating on flying safely through the minefield. The closer he got to the tunnel that led away from the central chamber, the harder it became to control the 'jumper. He was irrationally afraid of making a mistake, of bumping one of the black spheres and causing it to explode. He kept trying to remind himself that it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing to let one of the mines 'kill' him, but he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that his virtual demise wasn't going to hurt.

He'd nearly reached the exit tunnel when Murphy's Law kicked in.

Mini-Shadow sneezed.

The sound startled Rodney, and just for a moment his concentration was broken. A mere moment was all the time it took for Rodney to let the 'jumper go off-course by a fraction of a metre. He felt the vibration of the sphere hitting the hull of the 'jumper, and he thought he actually heard the impact less than a second before the mine blew up.

In the ensuing blackness, Rodney groaned loudly. "We just died again, didn't we?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Got it!"

At the sound of Radek's triumphant voice, John looked up to see the previously sealed door neatly slide open. Radek, with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up, passed a hand across his forehead as if he'd just put forth a monumental effort. _He thinks he's too warm_, John reminded himself as he watched the engineer. Aside from the fact Radek was acting as if he were overheated, he appeared perfectly fine. He hadn't mentioned seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary since he'd told John he thought he was outside. John took that for a positive sign.

A few seconds after the door retracted, Carson hurried into the room with an exclamation of, "Finally!"

"We did not anticipate the door failing to work," Radek said.

"No, I suppose you didn't," said Carson. "It's just a little frustrating when simple things don't work the way they're supposed to."

"This is Atlantis," John said. "Nothing's ever simple, and I'm pretty sure nothing ever works the way it's supposed to."

Carson's only response to that statement was a grimace, for which John couldn't blame him. The Scottish doctor observed his surroundings with a wary eye. He took several steps toward the far end of the room where Rodney's machine was located, but stopped in mid-stride and spun around to face John again.

"Where's Itzhak?" he said. "I thought he was here."

"He's here." John pointed to where the Israeli doctor had crawled completely under a table and had hidden in the most shadowy corner. "If you're doing triage, I'm pretty sure Dr. P needs your skills more than Rodney does. Anyway, Dr. P said there really isn't much we can do for Rodney until we get him out of the machine."

"Well, that's almost certainly true," Carson said. He bent from the waist and peered beneath Itzhak's table. "Good Lord! What happened to him?"

"I'm not really sure," John said. "He was fine when he got here. He was keeping an eye on Rodney, but then after we heard the Wraith dart, he said he was cold, and he started acting, you know…irrational."

Apparently, Carson had stopped listening beyond the point at which John mentioned the Wraith. He blurted, "What Wraith dart?"

"We thought we heard one," John said.

"In this _room_?"

"Yeah, but we only thought we heard it."

"Have you heard anything else?"

"Me? I've been hearing explosions, but they sound like they're far away," John said. "I heard one just a few minutes ago, actually."

"Me too," Radek interjected. "I thought I imagined that."

Carson frowned. "I didn't hear anything."

"It was before you came in," John said, and Radek nodded in agreement.

"I think I'd better have a look at you lads when I've finished with the other two," Carson said. "Colonel, do you know if Itzhak touched anything or ingested anything before he started displaying symptoms?"

"He touched a lot of stuff," said John. "He was playing with the Ancient Rubik's Cube for a long time, but I couldn't tell you exactly what else he touched besides that and Rodney and his medical stuff."

"Ancient Rubik's Cube?" Carson said. "What's that?"

John retrieved the grey cube and brought it to Carson. "It's this," he said. "It's some kind of Ancient puzzle, or something."

"It's not a puzzle," Radek said. He reached for the cube and Carson handed it to him. Turning it over in his hands, he explained, "It is security device. Rodney and I found some others just like this when we were exploring one day."

"How does it work?"

"It's like combination lock. From what we were able to determine, each cube matches its own specific sealed box. You arrange the pieces so they are the same as the pattern on the box." Radek said. He deftly turned the cube's moveable parts by way of demonstration. "When the cube is pressed onto the patterned area of the box, it opens."

"Cool," John said. "Well, at least it's not a weapon."

"Not a weapon," Radek agreed, and gave the cube back to John. "If you can find the box, I'll show you how it works. Now, I'm going to see about Rodney's machine."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Carson Beckett had tended a variety of patients in a multitude of odd locations, but he was quite certain this was the very first time he'd ever examined a full-grown man – one of his own colleagues, no less – hiding beneath a table.

Carson had been startled at his first sight of Itzhak curled up under there. He couldn't even think of a word to describe his friend's demeanour. 'Frightened' didn't seem adequate. Carson had never seen anyone so scared. The man looked traumatized, and Carson couldn't even begin to imagine what he might have been experiencing in his mind.

Even in the semi-darkness of the shadow cast by the large table, Carson could see how pale his friend's face was. Itzhak was breathing shallowly, rapidly, and when Carson placed his practiced fingers lightly against his friend's neck, he discovered a very rapid pulse, too.

It seemed to take a moment for Itzhak to realize he was being touched, but when he did his reaction was sudden and frantic. He swatted at Carson's fingers and commanded, "Get your hands off my throat!"

"I'm trying to help you," Carson said. "Do you understand?"

Itzhak said nothing for several seconds. He drew his hand inside the folds of the emergency blanket again, and settled more closely against the support structure holding the table in place.

"I'm cold," Itzhak said at last. "It's cold here. Raining. I don't like rain."

"What happened? Do you remember?"

"Cold…cold…"

"I know you're cold, son," Carson said. He grasped his friend firmly, but gently, by the shoulders. "Look at me, now. Can you tell me your name?"

"Itzhak Perlman."

"That's good, Itzhak. Do you know who I am?"

"Carson."

"Do you know where you are?"

"We don't have time for this," Itzhak said anxiously. "Can't you hear the soldiers? We have to leave right now. If they catch us, they'll never let us get out of here alive."

"No one's going to hurt you," said Carson. "I don't know what you're seeing and hearing, but I promise you, none of it is real. You're safe."

"No, we are _not_ safe!" Itzhak insisted, his voice increasing in urgency and volume. "They torture their prisoners! Don't you understand that? They are going to make us suffer and then they're going to _kill_ us!"

"Nobody's going to kill anybody."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Itzhak said. He pressed his palms over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. His voice was softer when he continued, but no less desperate. "You don't know what you're talking about. We were patrolling the northern border and I saw them kill our soldiers. They were killing civilians, too. I can hear the bombs…"

With a flash of insight that made his whole body tense in sympathetic reaction, Carson realized the things Itzhak was seeing and hearing might be genuine memories. Carson knew Itzhak had been a soldier before he'd become a doctor. The part of the world where Itzhak came from had never been peaceful at the best of times, and Carson guessed it was a rare soldier indeed who never faced danger in that place. If Itzhak was reliving part of an actual war, Carson could hardly fault him for being scared.

Carson caught hold of his friend's wrists and gently pulled his hands away from the sides of his head. "Itzhak, I need you to listen to me. Do you think you can do that, son? I want you to come out from under here, so I can examine you properly."

"No, no, no…" Itzhak tried to free his wrists from Carson's grip. "Let go of me! They're coming!"

"Nobody's coming."

"Yes…they…_are_!" Itzhak practically gasped out the words. He opened his eyes wide, and stared over Carson's shoulder as if the enemy might be right behind him. He looked as though he were about to say something else, but whatever it was, he didn't quite manage it. Slowly, he began to fall forward. It was only the presence of Carson's outstretched arms that stopped his inexorable descent.

Cached beneath a ten thousand year old table with his now unconscious friend in his arms, Carson began to feel more than a little fear of his own.

**TBC  
--------------------**


	8. Technical Difficulties

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. This story is a work of fan fiction that has been created for personal enjoyment only. I am not receiving compensation from any source, in any form, for the creation of this story.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character.

**RATING – **This story is rated** T**

**ARCHIVE – **If you would like to archive this story, you have my permission to do so. Please let me know where you're putting it, and I'll be happy. Thanks!

**A/N – **Yay! -hugs you all- I know I've already said this, but I am really, really pleased with the response this story has been receiving. I appreciate each and every one of you who is reading it and especially those of you who are thoughtful in leaving me comments. I'm really enjoying writing this story and sharing it with all of you.

Again, this is a slightly longer chapter than normal, with five scenes in it, but I guess I just had a lot to say. Enjoy**  
**

* * *

**All Fun nd Games**

**8. Technical Difficulties**

Rodney waited for the blackness to dissipate. He didn't panic quite so much this time, maybe because he knew the blindness was temporary. He lay still and kept his eyes open, anticipating the first dim light that would mean his vision was returning to normal. He felt mini-Shadow's small hand wrap itself around the first two fingers of his own right hand. He didn't even mind her touch as much as he'd done the first time. It was actually kind of nice to know he wasn't alone in the dark.

"Hey, Radek," he said. "Are you still here?"

"Yes," came the boy's voice.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"What'll happen to you and Shadow and Elizabeth when The Game ends?"

"We will be stored in the memory of The Game," mini-Radek said. "We will be here the next time you choose to play."

"What happens if I complete all six levels of The Game?"

"The Game ends."

"I mean, what happens to _you_? Will The Game store your data?"

The boy was quiet for several seconds. Finally, he answered, "No."

"Oh," said Rodney.

"This worries you?" mini-Radek said.

"Yeah, I guess. A little."

"Why?" asked the boy.

"Hey, are you supposed to be asking me questions like that?" Rodney said. He scrubbed at his left eye with the heel of his hand. "Shouldn't I be able to see by now?"

"Can't you?"

'If I could see, why would I be asking you about it? Everything's still black," Rodney said. "This better not be a malfunction. It'd be just my luck, to get myself trapped in a ten thousand year old machine with some kind of glitch. Would you even know if there was a malfunction?"

"Yes."

"Is there one?"

"I'm not aware of one," said mini-Radek.

"You'd tell me if you were aware of one, wouldn't you?"

"If you asked, of course I would."

"Okay, let's get one thing clear, right now," Rodney said. "I'm giving you standing instructions to tell me _right away_ if anything – and I mean _anything_ – seems abnormal to you. Don't wait for me to ask about it. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes," mini-Radek said gravely. "I understand."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Interesting…" Radek said for about the fifth time in as many minutes.

John watched the engineer with equal parts fascination and apprehension. He didn't doubt Radek's technical competence or his ability to solve problems, but he couldn't help being worried that something might inadvertently go wrong while the engineer worked on Rodney's machine. So far, this had been a Murphy's Law kind of day, and John figured it'd be too optimistic to expect things to change any time soon.

"Okay, I'll bite," John said. "What's so interesting?"

"Come. I'll show you," Radek said.

Obligingly, John joined the engineer behind the large device that was imprisoning Rodney. Radek had somehow connected his computer to the machine. He'd removed a panel on the machine's side, as well. John was amazed at how many crystals were inside the thing. He was glad it was Radek who had the task of figuring out what all of them were for, because he himself wouldn't have the faintest clue where to start.

John crouched beside the engineer. 'I always liked show and tell."

"You might not like this," Radek said. He touched the screen of his laptop with a forefinger. "Rodney's machine is using an incredible amount of power. More than it should, I think."

"Why would it be using so much power?"

"I'm not certain why it's doing that." Radek pressed his lips together in a pensive frown, and gazed candidly at John for several seconds before he spoke again. "Have you heard any more noises?"

"I thought I heard another explosion just a few minutes ago."

"So did I," said Radek. "I heard several, actually. Every time there is explosion, the device's power consumption spikes momentarily."

"Any idea why?"

"I have a theory. I think we can all hear the explosions because the device is really generating them. If it takes more power to generate the sound of explosions, it would explain the spikes."

"Can we all hear the explosions?" John wondered.

He looked across the room at the two doctors. John had helped Carson move Itzhak's limp body from under the table earlier so Carson could examine him. Now, Carson sat on the floor beside his colleague, watching over him.

The Scottish doctor looked decidedly uneasy when he heard John's question. He nodded slowly. "Aye, I heard them, too."

"Carson, do you hear anything besides explosions?" asked Radek.

"No," Carson said.

"Colonel, do you?"

"Nope. All I hear are the explosions," he said. "Have you been hearing something else, Radek?"

"Birds," Radek said. "That sounds insane, doesn't it?"

"No more insane than hearing explosions." said John.

"Perhaps it's the heat that's bothering me. I cannot concentrate properly like this." Radek rubbed a hand across his chest in a distracted gesture. "Don't you notice the humidity in here? It's…oppressive. Difficult to breathe."

'It's not even warm in here, Doc."

"Perhaps _you_ don't think so."

"It truly isn't warm in here, Radek," Carson said. "If you're having difficulty breathing, maybe I ought to check—"

"No," Radek said firmly. "If both of you say it isn't hot, perhaps it isn't. Maybe it is only in my imagination, like the birds and the…the…"

"What?" John demanded.

Radek purposely covered his ears and closed his eyes. John saw the engineer's lips move as he softly counted to ten.

"Being in this room is like nightmare," Radek said, once he'd lowered his hands and opened his eyes. He didn't mention what he'd imagined he had seen or heard. Settling himself behind his computer again, he inhaled deeply and exhaled the breath in a huff of air. "What was I telling you before…_that_…happened?"

"You were telling me your theories about Rodney's machine."

"Yes, yes…of course. Something else I noticed about Rodney's machine is that it is connected to the other one." Radek waved vaguely at the second device. "Over there. It appears to be active, too, and that might also explain the power."

John eyed the machine on the far side of the room. "How can the second device be active? Nobody touched it."

"Maybe activating one device activates both of them."

"Got any theories about how to deactivate them?"

"I'm working on that. I don't want to remove the wrong crystals. I don't know what that might do to Rodney or to the machine," Radek said. "I could make things far worse than they are already."

"Do what you can," John said.

John realized how inane that statement sounded the instant it left his mouth, but he guessed it didn't matter much, as Radek apparently hadn't heard him anyway. The engineer was already immersed in the business of trying to shut off Rodney's machine.

John decided the best thing to do was to leave Radek alone so he could concentrate on what he was doing. John wandered back to Carson and Itzhak's corner of the room, and sat near the two doctors. Itzhak was stretched out on his back on the floor. John noticed Carson had folded the blanket and laid it aside. John's jacket, also folded neatly, was now serving as a makeshift pillow for the unconscious man.

Carson looked worried. "We don't even have to go offworld to get ourselves into loads of trouble, do we?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It had taken longer than Rodney would've liked for his vision to return after his second virtual death, but at last the darkness had faded and he could see properly again. He hadn't wanted to wait any longer to begin his third chance to get through the maze. Mini-Radek had gladly obliged him by returning their 'jumper to the maze's entrance.

Killing off the virtual Wraith was even easier this time than it had been the last time. Rodney realized he'd begun to anticipate the Wraith darts, and he was able to target them with very little effort. He was getting used to controlling the 'jumper and launching the drones.

Now, he only had a thousand metres of tunnel to go, and he would be facing the mines for the second time. On this attempt, he decided, he was going to make it to the other side without going up in a virtual blaze of glory.

If he was going to wash out of this level of The Game, something beyond the minefield would have to get him, because the part of him that absolutely _hated _to lose wouldn't allow him to get blown up by the spherical black mines twice.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Carson was worried; more worried than he cared to admit to anyone but himself. He and his friends were in the worst kind of predicament. Carson couldn't have dreamed up anything more frightening and bizarre than their current situation if he'd tried. It was a bit like something from a science-fiction movie, he thought. He'd never really cared for science-fiction.

Carson kept himself occupied by alternately checking on Itzhak and Rodney, and keeping an eye on Radek's progress with the machine. He did his best to ignore the distant sound of explosions and the periodic but not-so-distant whine of Wraith darts. He had to keep telling himself the noises were just sound effects, and were most likely generated by the machines, as Radek had said.

John, for his part, seemed not to notice the noises any more. The colonel prowled around the room restlessly like a caged animal. When Carson asked him what he was doing, he told Carson he was looking for the sealed box that Radek had said could be opened with the 'Ancient Rubik's Cube'. John said he wanted to know what the Ancients had been trying to hide in it.

Carson left the colonel to his perusal of the tables and shelves. Personally, Carson had absolutely no interest in discovering any more Ancient surprises. He'd had enough surprises today, and it wasn't even lunch time, yet.

"I can't do this!"

The note of utter panic in Radek's voice was enough to yank Carson out of his own musings. He and John moved at the same time, and within seconds they'd both joined the engineer. Radek stared at the two of them as if the sight of their faces were the last threads tying him to his sanity. Carson noticed Radek's hands were curled into fists so tightly that his knuckles had become white.

"Radek, are you okay?" John asked him.

"No, I am not okay," Radek said. "I can't…I can't do this. I'm trying, but I keep hearing…"

"Hearing what?" the colonel prompted.

"Water." Radek practically whispered the single word.

The engineer swayed slightly as if he were dizzy. Carson reached out to steady him. "Easy, lad," Carson said. "You know we're inside, don't you?"

"I _think_ I know. We are in Atlantis."

"Aye, we are," said Carson. "Do you remember what you've been doing?"

Radek's features became intense with concentration. He was clearly fighting to maintain some degree of control over his own mind, and Carson silently applauded him for his tenacity. Carson was afraid, however, that the engineer was slowly losing the battle against whatever was affecting him.

Already, Carson could see Radek had developed the same symptoms as Itzhak; rapid, shallow breathing, dilated pupils, confusion, panic, and hallucinations. Those were the symptoms Carson would've expected to see in patients who'd been using hallucinogenic drugs, not in two healthy men who'd apparently done nothing more extraordinary than to enter a room full of unidentified objects.

The situation didn't make sense, but then again, not much about this day had been making sense to Carson.

"Carson, I…I think I remember," Radek said, after several moments of taut silence. "I was helping Rodney. I was trying to deactivate the machine, and there is something...something I have to remove."

Almost in slow motion, Radek turned away from Carson and back to the device. Carson realized he was holding his breath as he saw the engineer reach toward the open panel with a trembling hand. Radek slid his fingertips over the crystals.

Carson wanted to tell him not to experiment with the device any more. In Radek's current state of mind, it would be easy for him to make a mistake that might harm him, or Rodney, or both of them. They were all in enough trouble as it was, without adding to their difficulties.

"Radek, I don't think you ought to touch—" Carson began.

John must've had a similar thought, because at the same moment he warned, "Doc, you'd better not—"

Neither Carson nor John got the opportunity to finish what they'd intented to say. A distinct crackling noise issued from the device just as Radek closed his fingers around one of the crystals. Radek let out a startled yelp and scooted backwards, cradling his right hand in the palm of his left one.

For a moment, the engineer appeared completely lucid. "I think that was bad idea," he confessed. "The device generates _a_ _lot_ of energy."

Carson looked from John to Radek and back again. He did not like the way things were going, and by all accounts things weren't going to get better in a hurry. He addressed his friends with, "Now what are we supposed to do?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The 'jumper lurched crazily, as if it had run into a particularly severe pocket of turbulence. Rodney was flying his ship through the first section of tunnel that led away from the spherical mines. He told himself that he should have guessed he'd encounter the next obstacle here. The problem was, the turbulence didn't seem logical.

Rodney could see nothing except the smooth walls of the maze, nothing that posed an obvious threat, yet he knew there had to be _something_ out there. It was impossible to have turbulence inside an enclosed structure like this. If The Game were creating the scenario from his thoughts, it ought to know that, too.

Rodney glanced over at his two small passengers. Mini-Shadow seemed utterly petrified and close to tears. Mini-Radek looked grim. Rodney didn't like that look. When the real Radek wore that expression, it invariably meant trouble.

"Radek, what the hell is going on?" Rodney demanded of the little Czech, in much the same manner as he would have addressed his real-world counterpart.

The boy chewed his lip. "I don't know."

"Come on! This is your show. Don't tell me you can't predict all the twists and turns."

"Normally, I can," said mini-Radek, "but, something isn't—"

The 'jumper bucked again, harder than before, and mini-Shadow let out a high-pitched keening sound. She scrambled off the seat, scurried over to Rodney and tried to climb into his lap. Rodney held her at arm's length, suddenly impatient with the added distraction.

"Look," he said to mini-Radek. "Remember how you said all I need to do to leave The Game is consciously think about leaving it? It didn't work before, but I want to try it again. Can I do it now, in the middle of a level?"

"Y-yes," mini-Radek said, as he too began to slide down from the copilot's seat. "Normally, you could pause without completing the level, and return to it at later time, but—"

"But _what_?" Rodney demanded.

The little boy hunkered down on the floor and clasped his arms around his drawn-up knees. In a small, scared voice he said, "You asked me to tell you if something went wrong. I think…something is happening to The Game."

**TBC  
--------------------**


	9. Two Can Play At This Game

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. This story is a work of fan fiction, created solely for the purpose of personal entertainment. I am making no profit from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character.

**RATING – **This story is rated** T**

**ARCHIVE – **You have my permission to archive this story if you wish. Please tell me where you're putting it. That's all I ask. Thanks!

**A/N – **Thank you all once again for the _fabulous_ response you've been giving this story! Each chapter seems to gain a few new readers, and now **thirty **people have added this story to their alerts! -glee!- Seriously, you guys have no idea how happy you're making me, here!

Well, here's Chapter Nine for you. I'm sure some of you have already predicted the events of this chapter, but trust me, there's more adventure awaiting our heroes in this story. This is a shorter chapter. I hope you all will enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it for you! Have fun!

I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**9. Two Can Play At This Game**

_What are we supposed to do now_? It was a valid question.

At one time or another, each man in the room had probably been in worse situations than the one they were currently in. John himself had been caught between a rock and a hard place more times than he cared to count, but it seemed that almost every time he got into trouble, he could figure a way to get out again. More often than not, he could fight his way out. Barring that, he'd wait until somebody else fought their way in to rescue him. The problem this time, John realized, was that this was not a dilemma that called for fighting.

John let his gaze travel around the room and observed his four friends. Rodney, of course, hadn't moved. He was still in the clutches of the device.

Radek had inched his way into the corner and hunkered down behind the machine. Carson had tried to persuade him to come out of there, but Radek, evidently, was no longer capable of listening to reason. Carson's gentle coaxing had been met by a litany of Czech, the same incomprehensible phrase repeated over and over, until Carson had eventually given up and Radek's voice dissolved into ragged noises that weren't quite sobs.

Carson was beyond anxious. John could see the lines of worry etched across his friend's face. He imagined Carson was hoping this whole thing was just a nightmare and that he'd wake up soon and everything would be okay. If that was the case, John could sympathize. He was kind of hoping it was all a dream, too, even though he knew full well that it wasn't.

John decided Itzhak was the luckiest one of their group, despite the fact that he was unconscious. The Israeli doctor lay where Carson and John had settled him, completely oblivious to anything that might be going on around him. He looked peaceful, which was more than could be said for anybody else.

_What are we supposed to do now?_

The question echoed in John's head as he watched Itzhak sleep. Of the five of them in the room, John and Carson were the only ones really capable of doing anything at the moment. John didn't know why whatever had affected Radek and Itzhak hadn't affected him and Carson as well, but he wasn't about to question it, now. He needed to think of a way to take advantage of his ability to act while he still had it.

He and Rodney had both tried to deactivate the device mentally, and had been unsuccessful at it. Radek had tried to deactivate it manually, which had resulted in nothing more than Radek injuring his fingers. In John's opinion, it didn't seem logical that the machine couldn't be turned off. There had to be some way to disable the thing. Maybe there was something they were overlooking. John let his attention roam around the room again, and his gaze settled on the second device.

That was it.

All their experiments so far had been on the first machine, the one that held Rodney captive. Radek had said the devices were connected, and that activating one of them might have activated both. Maybe the way to shut both devices off was to deactivate the second one.

John got up and dusted himself off. He went to the far corner of the room where the second device glowed and hummed softly. John was aware of Carson watching him as he placed both his palms on the grey surface of the device. He could feel the power in the machine. He closed his eyes and concentrated on shutting it down.

Nothing happened.

Maybe he had to be in contact with it the same way Rodney was in contact with the first device. John wasn't keen on the idea of being shocked into unconsciousness by the thing, but he was beginning to get the feeling this was the only course of action remaining to him. Rodney had been conscious up to the point where both his hands and his face had made contact with the machine. If John could stay awake long enough to think the device into hibernation, maybe everything would be okay.

John slid his hand down the smooth side of the machine until his palm rested on one of the projections.

From behind him, Carson's tense voice said, "Colonel, what are you doing?"

"Conducting an experiment," John said.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"An experiment!" Carson exclaimed, horrified. He was on his feet in a second, and at the colonel's side in less than five. "You aren't considering letting that thing get hold of you, are you?"

John turned away from the mechanical monstrosity to face Carson directly. "Actually, Doc, that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"You don't know what it'll do to you," Carson said. "The bloody thing could kill you."

"It didn't kill Rodney," said John.

"That's not the point," Carson said. "It didn't kill him, but it did render him unconscious, didn't it? And we've no idea what it might be doing to his mind. His body might be perfectly fine, but there's no telling what sort of damage—"

John shushed him with an upraised hand. "Carson," he said. "We haven't got a whole lot of choices, here. You realize that, don't you? Nothing we've done so far has worked. I've got to try this."

"I just want you to know I think it's a bad idea."

"Okay," John said. "I hear where you're coming from. I didn't say it was a _good_ idea, anyway. It just happens to be one of the only options left."

"What happens if _you_ get stuck in the machine?" Carson said.

'I'm not even going to think about that."

"Someone's got to think about it."

John grinned at him, but Carson could tell the soldier's levity was forced. "Hey, where's that famous optimism, Doc? Everything'll work out fine. It always does, right?"

"There really are no other options, are there?"

"Oh, I can think of one or two more, but they involve ordnance and cutting torches."

"Right," Carson said. His stomach knotted at the mention of weapons and potentially dangerous tools. "I suppose you'd better try your idea first, then."

Carson was certain this would turn out to be the latest on John Sheppard's list of ill-advised plans. Sometimes Carson wondered if the colonel actually thought of the consequences before diving headlong into the unknown. Probably he didn't, otherwise he wouldn't be so quick to face untold dangers to rescue his friends. It seemed that John simply chose the straightest path between where he was and where he wanted to be, and followed it regardless of any potential harm he might cause himself along the way. Carson couldn't decide whether this made John a hero or a daredevil. He allowed himself a wry inward smile. Perhaps the intrepid soldier was a little of both.

He watched as John stepped in front of the machine. The colonel sized up the device with a critical eye before reaching out and placing his hands on the two side projections. He leaned toward the device, and the three contacts extruded from it.

"Well," John said. "Here goes nothing."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_This is weird,_ John said to himself as he felt the device's contact points touch his forehead and the sides of his face. He'd psyched himself up to receive a powerful jolt of energy from the device. Instead, all he experienced was the slight prickling sensation he normally felt when he activated some piece of Ancient technology. His palms and face tingled pleasantly, and he found that he was oddly relaxed.

He was aware of Carson hovering nearby, and from the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Radek peeking out from behind the first device. John caught Carson's worried frown, and tried to smile at him, to reassure him. Everything was fine. There was nothing to worry about.

John was starting to feel sleepy. Part of his brain registered the fact that the drowsiness had to be induced, but the greater part of him didn't really care. He felt as if his entire body was floating, drifting in a warm sea. The edges of his vision began to grow dim, but he didn't really mind. His eyelids were heavy. He gladly gave in to the urge to lower them.

Time stretched like warm taffy while John dozed. He might have been asleep for a minute or a year. He had the oddest notion that if he'd imagined himself sleeping for a year it would become an irrefutable fact. If he envisioned himself resting only for a minute, that would likewise be true.

He pictured himself waking, and opened his eyes.

John found himself lying on his back in a perfectly white room. When he sat up and looked around, he realized the room was actually a completely enclosed box. There were no windows and there was no way to exit. That could be a problem, John reasoned, and so he promptly imagined a door.

John stood and headed for his door, but before he reached it, somebody opened it from the other side. John stared. The person who had stepped over the threshold was an Air Force officer in full dress uniform. The officer was none other than Brigadier-General Jack O'Neill.

From somewhere far above his head, John heard an echoing, androgynous voice.

_«John Sheppard.» _the voice said_, « Welcome to The Game.»_

**TBC  
--------------------**


	10. General Inquiries

**DISCLAIMER – **I do not own _Stargate: Atlantis._ It is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am making no profit from the creation of this story. It is a work of fan fiction only, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**RATING – **This story is rated** T**

**ARCHIVE – **Feel free to archive, just tell me where it's going. Thanks!

**A/N – **I know I'm starting to sound repetitive now, but I really can't thank you guys enough for the excellent comments you've been posting for this story. I feel very encouraged by all the feedback I've been getting. Please keep it coming, because I love it!

I have no beta. If you spot any mistakes, blame them on me.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**10. General Inquiries**

"Cool," John said.

John was not surprised to see General O'Neill grin at him. "Yeah, it is pretty cool, isn't it?" said the general. "Betcha didn't expect the inside of your head to look like this, did you, Sheppard?"

"We're inside my head…sir?"

"Call me Jack. Yep, we're inside your head. Pretty spacious, though if you ask me, it could use some decoration."

The general gestured expansively, and before John's eyes, a very familiar Johnny Cash poster popped into existence on one of the walls. A skateboard and a set of golf clubs materialized next to the door. On the wall opposite the poster, a shelf coalesced, and on it sat the toy 'jumper from the Ancient room in Atlantis.

"Wow," John said, astounded. "How'd you do that, sir?"

"Hey, didn't I tell you to call me Jack?" the general said. "I'm not doing it. You are."

"I am?" John stared in amazement at his surroundings. "How am I doing it?"

Jack touched a finger to his forehead. "The Game is creating it from your thoughts. That's how The Game works. It uses your own thoughts to create the images you see within it."

"Really? What else can I create?" John thought about beanbag chairs, and two of them appeared. He imagined popcorn, and a huge bowl of it materialized on the floor between the two beanbags. John flopped into one of the chairs, and waved the general toward the second one. He said, "I think you'd better tell me everything you know about The Game."

"It could take a while," Jack said. "I know a lot about The Game. Where do you want to start?"

"Uh…without sounding too presumptuous, sir, why don't you start by telling me what the heck you're doing inside my head?"

Jack laughed. He settled himself in the other beanbag chair and helped himself to a handful of popcorn. "The person you think of as Jack O'Neill is not really here," he said. "You're creating me, just like everything else in this room. I'm the representation of your guide to The Game. Think of me as the user's manual."

"Okay," John said. He scooped a handful of popcorn from the bowl. The stuff was hot and buttery and tasted exceptionally good for a mere figment of his imagination. He chewed thoughtfully, and then addressed Jack again. "So, does the user's manual have a section on troubleshooting?"

"Troubleshooting?" Jack echoed.

"Yeah, you know. If there are problems with The Game, how do I get help?"

"I'm not aware of any problems with your session."

"Maybe I should fill you in," John said. "Out there in the real world, my friend Rodney is trapped in a device just like the one I'm using. Hell, for all I know, I might be trapped now, too. We don't know how to shut the machines off."

"You want to deactivate The Game?"

"I want to help my friend."

"Do you want to join a Game already in progress?"

"I can do that?"

"Sure," Jack said. "The Game in progress is on level two. When you pass the first level, you can join another player in the current Game."

John blew air between his teeth. He should have guessed there'd be some kind of catch. "Look," he said. "It's really important that I get to my friend and tell him how to exit The Game. Can't I just skip the first level?"

"No," Jack said.

"Why not?"

"Because that'd defeat the purpose of The Game."

"Of course it would," John said. "I don't suppose you can tell me what the purpose of The Game actually is, could you?"

The general gave him a puzzled look. "The purpose of The Game is to test intelligence, logical problem-solving, endurance, flight skills and weapons training."

_Oh crap…_

"It's a training simulator, isn't it? For soldiers."

"Ya think?" said the general.

"And what about all that stuff out there in the room? Those things are training tools, too, aren't they? And weapons?"

"I don't know anything about that."

_Like hell you don't,_ John wanted to say. A cold, sick feeling began to creep through his insides when he thought about his friends out there in the real world. God alone knew what kind of danger they could be in, and not even realize it. Anything they touched might hurt them.

In fact, maybe something they'd touched had hurt them already. John thought about Itzhak and Radek acting irrational and scared, and came up with a vivid mental picture of each of them fiddling with the Ancient Rubik's Cube. Radek had assured John the cube wasn't a weapon, but just because the cubes Radek had found elsewhere in Atlantis weren't weapons, it didn't mean the Ancients were above making a weapon that looked exactly like them. What better way to hide something deadly than to disguise it as an innocuous everyday device?

John's head spun when that idea occurred to him. He had to exit The Game and tell Carson what he'd learned, but he also had to help Rodney. Weighing his choices, he decided it would be more efficient to exit the game and explain things to Carson first. He didn't know how long it might take to pass the first level and get to Rodney, and he didn't want to leave the others waiting and in potential danger while he took the time to play The Game long enough to find the Canadian.

He appraised Jack with a candid gaze. "Tell me something," he said. 'If I exit The Game now, will I be able to get back in here and speak to you again?"

"Sure," Jack said. "The Game stores all the data from your session."

"Great," John said. "I'm going to exit right now, but I'll be back."

"I'll be waiting," Jack said. "Right here. I'll save you some popcorn."

"Right…thanks," John said.

Virtual popcorn was the last thing on John's mind. As he concentrated on getting back to Atlantis, the room with the beanbag chairs and General O'Neill slowly began to fade.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Hover!_ Rodney commanded the 'jumper.

At Rodney's instruction the little spacecraft glided to a stop and hung in midair in the middle of the tunnel. Rodney took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He needed to evaluate the situation and figure out what to do. Mini-Radek had told him under normal circumstances he'd be able to quit in the middle of a level, but because something was happening to The Game, he might not be able to do so now. Still, he reasoned, he had to try.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on leaving The Game. He pictured himself back in the Ancient toy room in Atlantis. He imagined the machine releasing him. He even conjured up a mental image of Sheppard playing with the toy 'jumpers.

"Rodney?"

"Not now, Radek! I'm trying to focus," Rodney said irritably. "In case you forgot, I really want to get out of here."

A small hand came to rest on Rodney's forearm and and even smaller one touched the back of his own hand. Rodney made a sound of exasperation and opened his eyes. He was still in the cockpit of the 'jumper. The two children were both staring at him, wide-eyed and frightened. Mini-Shadow's lower lip was trembling, and she looked as if she might imminently burst into tears.

"We're scared," mini-Radek said.

"This _can't_ be happening to me," Rodney groaned. He peeled the toddler's sticky fingers off his hand and gave her an impatient look. "You can't be scared. You're artificial constructs. Now, go away and let me think."

The little girl began to whimper and her guileless chocolate-brown eyes filled with tears. Mini-Radek looked as if he wanted to cry, too, but apparently he was determined to be stoic in the face of his fear. He said, "This has never happened before."

"What hasn't happened before?" Rodney asked.

"Something isn't right."

"Yeah, I think we've already established that. Now, what we have to figure out is _what_ isn't right. We need to—" He interrupted himself to direct another glare at mini-Shadow, whose whimpering had escalated into full-fledged sobbing. "Shadow, will you _stop_ crying, already? You have no idea how annoying that is. The real Shadow wouldn't carry on like that."

"She's not—" mini-Radek began.

Rodney held up a hand. "I know. She's just a representation," he said. "Look, Radek, does The Game have any kind of troubleshooting features? You keep telling me something isn't right. Is there any way we can find outexactly what's wrong?"

The little boy nodded. "I think I can access the diagnostic program."

"Good," Rodney said. "Do it."

Mini-Radek closed his eyes, and his little face became intense, displaying his obvious mental effort. Rodney spared a moment to marvel at how much the computer generated boy reminded him of the real Radek. A moment was all he could spend on that particular musing, because the 'jumper began to dissolve around him and his small companions. Rodney had the distinct sensation of falling as his surroundings blurred. Without even thinking about what he was doing, Rodney scooped up mini-Shadow and held the sobbing toddler against himself. He felt mini-Radek's fingers close around his forearm. The boy's hand was trembling.

"I think I did it," mini-Radek said.

_Yeah,_ Rodney wanted to say, _I think you did it, all right, but I'm afraid to ask what _it_ might be._

**TBC  
--------------------**


	11. Diagnosis

**DISCLAIMER – **I do not own _Stargate: Atlantis_. It is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am making no profit from this story. It is a work of fan fiction only, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character.

**RATING – **This story is rated **T**

**ARCHIVE – **You have my permission to archive this story if you wish.

**A/N – **Many thanks to everyone who has been reading & reviewing! I love all those reviews and I am very grateful to those of you who take the time to leave me a comment.

My apologies to those who expected short chapters… Chapter Eleven is a bit longer than the average chapter in this story, and also there are a bunch of end notes, which you may or may not choose to read. Anyway, have fun & enjoy!

I have no beta. Any mistakes you may encounter can be blamed on me.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**11. Diagnosis**

The room was much too quiet.

Carson had never before noticed how frightening silence could be. He'd been nervous when he thought he'd heard the distant sounds of Wraith darts and explosions, and he'd been worried and upset by his friends' irrational behaviour. Now, in the stillness that followed John's activation of the second device, Carson was positively unnerved. He longed for a noise of any kind, but there really were none. Even Radek, who'd been making plenty of noise earlier, had settled down in his hiding place behind Rodney's machine.

From his vantage point, Carson could see Radek, though he wasn't sure the engineer was aware of that. When Carson had last checked on him, Radek had barely acknowledged Carson's presence, and had made absolutely no fuss at all about being examined. When Carson had tried to persuade him to leave the corner, however, that'd been a different story altogether. The idea of leaving his hiding place seemed to terrify Radek beyond reason. In the end, Carson had completely given up trying, instead telling himself the engineer would be fine where he was for the time being.

Carson had checked on Rodney after that. Upon learning that nothing had really changed with the trapped physicist, Carson returned to his spot on the floor next to Itzhak, and tried not to let his hyperactive imagination run away with him. There was enough of that going on in this room already.

The brain was a puzzling thing, Carson mused. Of all the parts in the human body, the brain was the one science understood the least. It wasn't so much the physical aspects of the organ that were perplexing, but the way the brain functioned. The mind and the consciousness were the real mysteries. The mind could trick you into seeing, feeling, hearing things that weren't there. It could make a person believe he was warm and comfortable when his body was actually suffering from hypothermia. It could convince a man he was about to perish when he was, in fact, perfectly fine.

Carson wasn't sure how much time passed while he let himself get lost in his own musings, but he pulled his mind back to the present when he sensed Itzhak beginning to stir beside him. Carson rested his palm on his friend's shoulder. He said Itzhak's name, hoping to elicit any kind of response from the man.

The response he got wasn't the one he'd expected.

Itzhak reacted to Carson's touch as if Carson had struck him instead of merely placing a gentle hand on his arm. Reflexively, he rolled onto his side and curled up in a near-foetal position. The noise he made was something Carson could only describe as a howl of utter agony.

Vaguely wondering why in God's name he'd wished so fervently for a break in the room's silence, Carson resisted the impulse to cover his ears. The last time he'd heard anyone make such a god-awful racket, he'd been treating an unlucky Marine with a severly fractured femur who'd been firmly wedded to the idea that she'd been mortally injured.

"Itzhak!" Carson said loudly.

Itzhak's yelling faded into a ragged entreaty of, "Help me… please, you have to help me."

"I'm right here," Carson said. "Tell me what's the matter."

"He shot me!" Itzhak said. His fingers scrabbled at his shirt, and he gasped out, "You have to _do_ something! Please, don't let me die out here like this. Oh God, please…please…"

"It's okay. I'm going to help you," Carson soothed. "Do you trust me to help you?"

Itzhak gulped air, as if he were struggling to breathe through extreme pain. "Y-yes, I…trust you."

"You're going to be all right," Carson said, as he helped his friend roll onto his back again. "Now, I need you to move your hands and let me see where you're wounded."

Slowly, Itzhak raised his hands. He stared at them with an expression of horror on his face. Carson was certain Itzhak really believed he'd been shot, and he wondered if the man were imagining he saw his own blood covering his fingers and palms. Deciding for the moment that it was better to go along with Itzhak's perception of his circumstances rather than to try to reason with him, Carson lifted his friend's shirt to examine the place where the 'wound' was supposed to be.

What Carson saw made him pull in a quick breath. Judging by the scar on his abdomen, Itzhak had indeed been shot, although the injury had happened a long time ago. The scar was definitely a testament to army field medicine, if Carson had ever seen one.

Carson came to the conclusion this confirmed his theory about Itzhak's hallucinations. The things Itzhak was experiencing now must be at least partially based on his actual memories.

Carson couldn't prevent the tremor than ran the length of his spine when he contemplated the horrors Itzhak must have endured in the service of his country's army. He found it hard to reconcile the image of his friend with that of a muddy, bloody soldier in the kill-or-be-killed arena of war. Itzhak was one of the most compassionate individuals Carson had ever met. He truly loved people, and didn't like to see anyone suffering. Carson couldn't imagine him tramping across some wretched Middle Eastern battleground with a weapon in his hands.

It was little wonder Itzhak rarely spoke about his past, Carson thought. In Carson's opinion, Itzhak was lucky to have survived the experience at all, and he couldn't fault his friend for not wanting to discuss it. Being there must have been a living nightmare for him, and reliving it now could only be worse.

Carson carefully pulled his friend's shirt into place again, and let his gaze move back to the man's face. It was battlefield terror he saw in Itzhak's expression; the look that soldiers got when they were sure they'd die where they'd fallen.

"It looks bad, doesn't it?" Itzhak said.

"No, it's not nearly as bad as you think," Carson told him.

"My parents…they've already lost one son. You can't let me die here. My mother…she…"

"You'll get home to your mother," Carson told him. "Don't you worry about that."

"I can't help it. I don't want to die like this. I don't…" Itzhak closed his eyes. He was quiet for several seconds, and then he began to recite something in Hebrew that sounded almost liturgical to Carson's ears.

_Praying_, Carson realized. _He's praying, because he's really afraid he's going to die._ If Carson believed in any sort of deity, he might've started praying, too, that they'd all get out of this dreadful mess they were in. He looked across the room toward John and the second Ancient device. For all their sakes, he hoped the colonel knew what he was doing.

"Twenty-seventh psalm," said a soft voice off to Carson's left.

Startled, Carson turned slightly to see a pale, wide-eyed Radek staring at him. While Carson's attention had been elsewhere, the engineer had emerged from his place in the corner and made his way across the room. Now, he was kneeling on the floor a few metres away from Carson and Itzhak.

"I see you've decided to come out of hiding, Radek," Carson said. "What's this about the twenty-seventh psalm, then?"

"It was dark," Radek whispered. "Over there."

"Of course it was."

"Hurts to breathe…and it's so hot in this place."

"Here, why don't you come and sit by me?" Carson said. _Where I can keep an eye on you,_ he wanted to add, but wisely decided against voicing that particular thought aloud. He beckoned for Radek to join him. "Now, you were telling me about the twenty-seventh psalm. What's that all about?"

"It's what he's saying," Radek said, gesturing at Itzhak. Radek crept so close to Carson's side that Carson had the distinctly uncomfortable sensation of his personal space being invaded. The engineer twisted his fingers together anxiously, and asked, "Is he going to die?"

"No, he isn't going to die," Carson said. "How do you know he's saying the twenty-seventh psalm, Radek? You don't speak Hebrew."

"The writing is on the wall."

"And what writing would that be, son?"

"The writing on the wall in his room," Radek said. "It's a scroll. He showed me once. He always says it when he's afraid."

The longer Carson talked to him Radek began to sound more calm and rational. Encouraged a little by that, Carson decided he needed to keep the engineer's mind focussed on something other than whatever phantom visions and noises had frightened him before.

"Did Itzhak tell you he says the twenty-seventh psalm when he's afraid?"

"Yes. He told me it is very old prayer," Radek said. He was silent for a moment, and then in a bemused tone he declared. "Carson, I think I'm agnostic."

Despite the situation, Carson really wanted to laugh. Maybe the stress of the day was finally getting to him. He somehow managed to keep a straight face when he replied, "That's all right. I don't think agnosticism is a sin."

Radek peered at him, mystified. "Is that a joke?"

Belatedly, Carson realized what he'd said, and discovered that he could no longer contain his laughter. Laughing seemed incongruous with the eeriness of the Ancient room, and the sound of his own voice echoing made Carson feel a little hysterical. He thought he was beginning to understand how Radek and Itzhak felt, because he had a sudden, overwhelming urge to hide in a corner and cover his head.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Rodney thought he might be falling indefinitely.

He had no way of judging the distance, but he felt as though he'd already plunged several thousand metres, straight down through a dense fog. He should have been terrified, but strangely he wasn't. Mostly, he was perplexed, because he thought he should have been falling faster than he was. Apparently, the laws of physics meant nothing in The Game.

He couldn't see anything in the mist, but he was aware that the two children were still with him. He was holding mini-Shadow with one arm. Mini-Radek clung to Rodney's other arm with both hands, oddly weightless despite their downward plunge.

Finally, blessedly, their descent ended, and Rodney found himself landing on a firm, yet thankfully soft, surface. When the environment re-formed, Rodney was back in The Game's original white room, sitting on a bed that looked exactly like the ones in the Infirmary in Atlantis.

Mini-Shadow, who had mercifully stopped sobbing, remained nestled comfortably in Rodney's arms. The toddler clutched a small plush toy that resembled a green dog. The real Shadow had a toy just like that, and Rodney wondered where the simulated one had come from. He certainly hadn't imagined it for her. Of course, he wasn't aware of having imagined most of the things he'd encountered so far in The Game, so maybe he had created Shadow's favourite toy subconsciously. He shook his head. Right this minute, he thought he was really beginning to understand the meaning of the phrase 'bad trip'.

Mini-Radek perched next to Rodney on the bed with his feet dangling over the edge. The little Czech peered expectantly at him, as if he might be waiting for praise. Rodney refused to take the hint.

"_This_ is the diagnostic program?" Rodney said.

"Yes," said mini-Radek.

"How does it work?"

The boy pointed to the far wall, where an Atlantis-style door was beginning to take shape. "Look over there," he said. "You'll see."

Rodney looked. No sooner had the door solidified than it slid open. For a moment nothing happened, and then Rodney heard footsteps. A small boy with tousled brown hair and wide blue eyes peeked around the edge of the doorway.

"That's just great," Rodney muttered. "Another kid."

Mini-Radek beckoned to the shy little boy in the doorway. "Come in," he said, "Rodney needs your help."

When the kid stepped into the room, Rodney wanted to scream. The boy appeared to be the same age as mini-Radek, and he was dressed in the uniform of Atlantis' medical staff. He was wearing a white lab coat as well, but unlike his well-fitted uniform, the coat seemed to have been swiped from the closet of some unsuspecting grown-up doctor. The boy's hands were hidden in the too-long sleeves, and the hem of the lab coat trailed on the floor.

"This is _so_ not happening," Rodney said. He addressed the little fellow in the outsized lab coat. "Please don't tell me you're Carson."

"You're really good at guessing games, Rodney," the boy said in a cheerful little voice with a Scottish brogue. "I am Carson. A representation of the person you know as Carson, at least. Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me," Rodney said. "You are the diagnostic program, aren't you?"

"Aye, I am," mini-Carson said.

With a flip of his lab-coat-concealed hand, he made a stepping stool materialize next to the bed where Rodney sat with the other children. Mini-Carson hitched up his lab coat and climbed onto the stool. The added height put him at Rodney's eye level which, in Rodney's opinion, was highly unnerving.

"Are you even qualified to diagnose anything?"

"Of course I'm qualified," mini-Carson said. "It's not voodoo I'm practicing here, you know."

Rodney snorted. "Don't expect me to believe that."

"Believe what you like," said mini-Carson. "Your belief has no effect on what's true and what's not. Now, why don't you tell me what's troubling you, Rodney? We'll see if we can get it sorted."

"This is ridiculous!" Rodney said. "You're a _diagnostic program_, for crying out loud! You're supposed to tell me what the problem is, and how I can fix it. I want to exit The Game, but I can't seem to do it, and now Radek says there's something wrong with The Game itself."

Rodney watched, utterly astounded, as mini-Carson pushed up the sleeves of his lab coat and placed a forefinger to his chin in a thoughtful gesture.

"Hmm…"

"How is this helping?" Rodney demanded.

"Be patient, Rodney," mini-Radek said. "The Game is a complex device."

"The device is malfunctioning," mini-Carson said. "That's why you can't exit The Game. There's something else—"

He hopped down from the stepping stool. Like magic, a life-sized version of the game device appeared a few metres from the bed on which Rodney and his small friends rested. Mini-Carson waved at the machine, and the metallic side panel disappeared, revealing dozens of crystals inside.

Rodney climbed off the bed. He set mini-Shadow down carefully and went to join mini-Carson beside the representation of the device.

"How can I be seeing this?" Rodney asked. "I've never looked inside this device before."

"I know," mini-Carson said. "You're not creating this image. It's part of the diagnostic program. Look."

Mini-Carson crouched next to the open panel. He pointed with a slender finger. Rodney's gaze followed where the boy was pointing. What he saw was a blank space in the neat rows of crystals; a blank space where, presumably, another crystal should have been.

"Oh no," Rodney said.

"One of the control crystals has been removed," mini-Carson said, confirming Rodney's inference. "It's affecting the functionality of the device."

"Oh no. No, no, no, no…" Rodney shook his head in denial, even though he knew exactly what must have happened. "_Radek_—"

"What?" came the voice of the small boy on the bed.

"Not you!" Rodney said. "I'm talking about the real Radek. He had to be the one who removed that crystal. I swear, if I ever get out of here, I'm going to kick his incompetent a—"

"Rodney," mini-Carson interjected. "There's something else you might like to know."

"What?" Rodney demanded.

"Another player has entered The Game."

_Oh crap,_ Rodney thought. _It has to be Sheppard._ Rodney had a sudden impulse to bang his head against a wall. It'd be just like Sheppard to come charging in, even though he didn't have a clue what he was getting himself into. Rodney had horrific visions of his would-be rescuer getting trapped in The Game right along with him.

This was not, in Rodney's considerable estimation, an encouraging turn of events.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Gradually, the floating sensation started to fade and John began to wake up. A soft hum filled his ears and he felt the device's contact points gently pull away from his forehead and temples. John still felt relaxed and pleasantly warm in the moments before he opened his eyes.

When he finally did raise his eyelids and step away from the machine, he was relieved to notice that he was back in the Ancient room. He took a second to stretch his arms and his back muscles before turning around to look for his friends.

Rodney was still attached to his own machine. Across the room, Carson, Radek and Itzhak were clustered together in a tight group. Itzhak was awake again. He seemed to be in pain, and John had the fleeting thought that he'd probably have been better off if he were still unconscious. Radek was kneeling beside Itzhak, watching over him with an intensity that left John with the impression the engineer was afraid to look away from his friend, even for a second. With some degree of worry, John observed that Carson didn't look much better than the other two. The Scottish doctor sat with his elbows on his knees and his face hidden behind his hands.

John started across the room toward the group, calling out tentatively, "Hey, Carson?"

Carson jolted upright, obviously surprised. He scrambled to his feet and hurried to meet John halfway. "Colonel, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," John said. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, a wee bit stressed, I'd say." Carson nodded in the direction of Itzhak and Radek. "I'm fine otherwise. Haven't been hearing or seeing anything out of the ordinary, at any rate. I take it you didn't have any luck figuring out how to free Rodney?"

"I'm still working on that," John told him. "I found out something important while I was in The Game, and I thought I'd better exit and tell you about it before I go back in there for Rodney."

"You're going back in?"

"Yeah."

Carson gave him a dubious look. "Is that advisable?"

"It's what I'm doing," said John, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Carson must've gotten the hint, because he didn't protest any further. Instead he asked, "What did you learn, then?"

"This room isn't full of toys and games like we originally thought," John told him. "These things are weapons."

Carson stared at him in alarm. "Weapons?"

"Yes, and the device Rodney's stuck in is a training simulator for soldiers that's masquerading as a virtual reality game."

"Good Lord," Carson said.

"There's more," John said. "I have a theory about what's happening to Radek and Dr. P, too."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not, but I'm telling you anyway. I think the Ancient Rubik's Cube has something to do with what's wrong with them."

"Radek said the cube isn't a weapon."

"I know. Maybe the other cubes he found weren't dangerous, but I think this one is. I mean, it'd be just like the Ancients to hide a weapon in something ordinary, like a combination lock. Maybe it's got some kind of poison on it, or something."

"If the cube contained a toxin, we'd all be ill," said Carson. "We all handled it."

"Yeah, but they were the only two who _played_ with it," John said, waving an arm in Itzhak and Radek's direction. "Look, Carson, you need to get both of them out of here, right now."

"What about you and Rodney?"

"I'll worry about me and Rodney," John said.

"I'm not leaving you here."

"Okay, you can come back in if you want to, but you need to get Radek and Dr. P out of this room. I'll help you take them out to the corridor, and then you can call for help and stay with them until somebody comes. After that, what you do is your choice," John said, and added, "I'd feel better if you went to the Infirmary with them, though."

John could tell Carson was wavering. He thought he understood how the doctor felt. It was tough to choose who to give help to, when everybody seemed to need it. The reality of this situation, however, was that there was really nothing to be done for John and Rodney while they were attached to the devices, while Itzhak and Radek were in obvious need of immediate attention. Still, John wasn't about to tell Carson what to do. The doctor was intelligent enough to figure out what should be done.

Carson looked from the two men on the floor, to Rodney, and then back again. "All right," he said finally. "If you think you can manage alone for a bit, I expect I really ought to stay with them, but I'm going to make certain _somebody_ comes down here to watch out for you."

**TBC  
--------------------**

**A/N #2 – **The text of the twenty-seventh psalm (in English) for anyone who's interested, can be found here:  
http(colon slash slash)www(dot)bartleby(dot)com(slash)108(slash)19(slash)27(dot)html  
It's the King James Version, but that's the one I most often use, just because I love the language forms of early modern English. Yah…you know I'm still a linguist deep down inside. -smiles-

**A/N #3 –** Well…after writing this chapter, it occurred to me that maybe Dr. Perlman needs a story of his own. I didn't realize how much backstory I had for him, just based on the character sheet I made when I came up with his character for my other WIP. Of course, I'm not sure how Atlantis-related his story would be. I'd have to think about that. lol…imagine the MarySue fic… btw, does anybody else think it's weird that male MarySues are still called MarySues? (a boy named MarySue? lmao!) /end aimless rambling


	12. Are Two Heads Better Than One?

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. This is a work of fan fiction only. I am making no profit and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character

**RATING – **This story is rated **T**

**ARCHIVE – **Feel free to archive this story if you wish.

**A/N – **First of all, I want to say thank you once again to everyone who has been reading this story (there certainly seem to be a lot of you!) and especially to those who have left me such wonderfully encouraging reviews!

Okay, now it's time for the shout-outs! Thanks to NenyaVilyaNenya & nwfairy for enlightening me about male Sues and adding the term "GaryStu" to my fan fiction vocabulary. Thanks also to 001ElvenWarrior for the suggestion that male Sues should be called "JoeBob". I really, really liked that, and now you'll all have to watch out for my JoeBob fic! -mad laughter- Yes…I am 99 certain I'm going to attempt to write a Sue fic, as scary as that seems. (I've heard there's actually a MarySue Challenge, somewhere, but I haven't actually seen the challenge in print…-shrug-)

Anyway, here's chapter Twelve for you. This one's somewhat lighter in tone than the last chapter, but it's got John and Rodney together with the virtual reality kids, so how could it not be light? Enjoy!

I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**12. Are Two Heads Better Than One?**

Getting Carson and his two patients out of the room had been a lot easier than John had anticipated. He'd imagined himself and Carson attempting to convince Itzhak and Radek they needed to leave the room, only to be met by irrational arguments and vehement protests. Much to John's relief, the undertaking had been relatively trouble free, which was more than he could have said about the way his day had been going so far.

As it turned out, Radek had been more than glad to go when Carson told him that he'd be safer in the corridor. The engineer went out of the room on his own with no fuss at all, though he peered anxiously around the edge of the door until Carson and John emerged from the room again with Itzhak.

Itzhak had been a bit more difficult to manage, but John had expected that. He appeared to be in a far worse condition than Radek. The engineer was capable of being reasoned with to a degree, and although he was clearly frightened, he seemed to understand that the things he saw and heard weren't real. On the other hand, no amount of persuasion could convince Itzhak that he was still in Atlantis with his friends and that he hadn't been critically wounded by enemy fire in the middle of some war. In the end, John and Carson had to carry him into the corridor.

With the belief that his three friends were safe for the time being, John re-entered the Ancient room and went back to the second device. This time, when he let the machine's contact points touch his hands and head, he knew exactly what to expect. He was able to relax his body beforehand, which only increased the pleasurable sensation he felt when the device induced him to close his eyes.

John felt the now-familiar sensation of drifting weightlessly. He told himself that he needed to open his eyes right away, but the floaty feeling was so enjoyable that he let himself drift for a few extra moments. Vaguely, he wondered if he should be worried about what the machine was doing to him, but just like the last time he'd experienced this phenomenon, he decided he didn't really care

When he finally managed to open his eyes, he found himself in the white room where he'd begun The Game. All the stuff he'd created the last time was still there, right down to the bowl of popcorn between the two beanbag chairs. Jack was there, sprawled in the same beanbag he'd been occupying when John left, except now the general was in his civvies and he was eating a piece of pie. Somehow, a television had materialized in the room. The general was watching football. He raised a hand by way of greeting.

"Hey, Sheppard," he said. "Miss me?"

John waved vaguely at the television. "Did I create—"

"Well, I'm sure you didn't imagine me sitting here and staring at the walls while you were gone," Jack said cheerfully. "You know, you could've put a hockey game on TV for me, though. Want some pie?"

"Uh…no."

Jack shrugged one shoulder. "Suit yourself, but you don't know what you're missing. It's apple pie. Just like Mom used to make."

"Sir—"

"Ah…Sheppard, I told you to call me Jack. You know, you've got a great imagination, but a really short memory," Jack said. He set the plate with his half-eaten piece of pie carefully on the floor, and then got up from his chair. "So, did you get all your business taken care of while you were out there in the real world?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Now you're ready to begin The Game."

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"We can start whenever you want."

"I want to start now, but I have to know a few things first," John said. "Is Rodney still on level two? Can I still join him?"

The general looked thoughtful, and scratched his head. "Actually," he said. "The other player isn't in the second level any more."

"You're kidding? Are you saying I have to pass _two_ levels before I can get to him?"

"No," Jack said. "You can join him right this minute, if you want to. He's in the diagnostic program."

John definitely did not like the sound of that. Rodney being in The Game's diagnostic program could only be a bad sign, the ramifications of which John was sure he really didn't want to know. Bravely, he asked anyway, "What's he doing in the diagnostic program?"

"Diagnosing stuff?" the general said unhelpfully. "Look, I'm not programmed to tell you what he's doing in there. You can enter that program and see for yourself, or you can begin The Game now. It's your choice."

""Send me to wherever Rodney is," John said.

"You got it," said Jack

The general snapped his fingers and everything started to fade. Even the floor began to dissolve, and John let out a startled "Hey!" when he realized there was nothing but a thick fog beneath his boots. John plunged downward into an all-obscuring mist.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Rodney sat with his chin in his hands, staring at the virtual representation of the machine with the missing control crystal. Why was it, he wondered, that nothing ever seemed to go smoothly for him? Usually, things worked out okay in the end, but not without a dozen unnecessary complications along the way. Just once, he thought, he'd like a situation to resolve itself normally, without any problems whatsoever. He supposed it was a futile wish. Some things were just too much to hope for.

Rodney was jolted out of his self-pitying thoughts by mini-Shadow tugging persistently on his sleeve and mini-Radek's exclamation of, "Rodney, look!"

"Look where?" Rodney said.

Mini-Shadow pointed up.

Rodney gaped.

Far above his head, Rodney saw a shape that looked very much like a person. The person-shaped object was hurtling straight downward.

"It's the second player," mini-Carson said.

Hearing that another player had entered The Game had been bad enough news. Learning that the new player was falling from the sky was, quite possibly, even worse. As the second player descended, Rodney saw clearly who it was, and he also saw that he was directly in the way of the falling individual.

"What the…?" Rodney began. He scrambled to his feet in an effort not to be crushed by the plummeting body.

"It's all right," mini-Carson said. "There's nothing to worry about."

With a casual flip of his hand, mini-Carson made a second Infirmary-style bed appear just in time to catch a dishevelled-looking John Sheppard. Rodney groaned. Somehow he'd just _known_ John would do something heroically stupid; something like letting himself get trapped in a malfunctioning Ancient device because he thought he was being helpful.

John landed on the bed with a bemused expression on his face.

"Weird," the colonel said.

"Sheppard!" Rodney exclaimed.

John surveyed his surroundings and his gaze finally came to rest on Rodney. "Hey," he said. "Nice diagnostic program you've got here, McKay. I love what you've done with the place."

"Very funny," Rodney said. "Do you have _any _idea what you're doing?"

"Sure. I'm rescuing you," John said. He slid down from the bed and crossed the room to join Rodney and the children. "So, who are your little friends, here?"

Rodney made a vague sound of annoyance as he pointed to each child in turn. "Carson and Radek, and the one drooling all over her hand is Shadow."

"Really? Wow, you guys look…different."

"Everyone looks different here, so I've been told," Rodney said.

"General O'Neill looked pretty much the same as he does in real life," said John.

"You saw General O'Neill?"

"Apparently, I _created_ him." John said. "He said he represents the user's manual for The Game, and he told me to just call him Jack. Pretty cool, huh? You should've seen the stuff I created in that other room."

"Look, Sheppard, this might be all fun and games for you, but it isn't for me. I'd really like to get out of here, if that's possible. This is no time to be…hey! What are you doing?"

John reached into one of the pockets of his tactical vest and pulled out an orange lollipop. He gave the candy to mini-Shadow. She removed her thumb from her mouth and smiled angelically at him before happily tasting the treat he'd given her. John laughed.

"There. That's a lot better than your fingers, isn't it?" John said to her. He looked around at mini-Carson and mini-Radek. "What flavour do you guys like?"

"Red!" the two little boys said in unison.

"Red isn't a _flavour_," Rodney said.

John conjured up two red lollipops for the boys. "See? I told you I could create really cool stuff. Rodney, do you want one of these, too?"

"No," Rodney said and then, remembering the peanut butter flavoured power bar, amended, "Well…all right, if you've got another red one."

John took another red lollipop from his vest pocket and handed it to Rodney. He snapped his fingers and made a yellow one appear in his hand for himself, which Rodney thought was an unnecessary display of showing off.

"So," John said around the candy in his mouth, "Any particular reason why your game guides are all kids?"

"They're here to annoy me," Rodney said.

"We're part of the challenge," said mini-Radek.

"They'll tell you anything you want to know, as long as it's not remotely helpful or constructive in any way," Rodney grumbled. "They'll throw your concentration off, and they'll interrupt you while you're doing something important, like trying not to get killed by exploding mines."

"Mines?" said John.

"Rodney thought he couldn't fly through them," mini-Radek said. He bestowed an admiring look on Rodney. "He did. We _knew_ he could."

"Hmph," Rodney said.. "No thanks to you and your little friend."

"You're cold, McKay," said John. He ruffled mini-Radek's already tousled hair with big-brotherly affection. "Seriously, how could you not like this kid?"

"I have no problem disliking him, I assure you."

"You really should feel honoured to have him around. I mean, how often do you find someone who looks up to you like this?"

"Plenty of people look up to me."

"Really? Name one."

"Sheppard, we don't have time for this!" Rodney said. "I really would like to get out of here before my fortieth birthday, you know, so if you could at least _try_ to be serious for a change, I'd really appreciate it."

"Getting out is easy. All you have to do is think about it,"

"Yes…thank you for _nothing_! I already _knew_ that, and if it'd actually worked, we wouldn't be standing around inside our own heads and having this conversation, would we?"

"You cannot exit from here," mini-Radek interjected. "Even if you wanted to. You must return to The Game, first."

"I thought this was The Game," John said.

"This is the diagnostic program," said mini-Carson

"Right," said John. He crouched in front of mini-Radek so that he was on the little Czech's eye level. "Radek, can you go to a place where it _is_ possible to exit?"

"Yes, I can," mini-Radek said.

"Oh no…" Rodney whispered as the room began to fade.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

John stared.

The spot where mini-Radek had been standing less than a second ago was completely devoid of the little boy's presence. When John looked around, he realized Rodney and mini-Shadow were gone, too.

"What the hell just happened?" John demanded aloud.

From behind him, a little voice answered, "One of the players just exited the diagnostic program."

John glanced over his shoulder to find mini-Carson peering guilelessly at him. John said, "What are you still doing here? For that matter, what am _I_ still doing here?"

"I belong here," mini-Carson said. "I'm a representation of the diagnostic program. You're here because you can't join a Game in progress until you've reached the level the current player is on."

"So, what am I supposed to do?"

"You can stay here, or you can return to the beginning of The Game. You can't exit from here," mini-Carson said.

John dragged his fingers through his hair and exhaled noisily. "Peachy."

When a basket full of peaches appeared on the floor in front of him, it was all he could do not to yell at the top of his lungs.

** TBC  
--------------------**


	13. In Deep

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is not mine. It is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not receiving compensation from any source, in any form, for the creation of this story. No copyright infringement is intended.

**RATING – **This story is rated **T**

**A/N – **You people are amazing! I just looked at the stats for this story and I can't believe how many hits it has been getting. Thank you so much to those of you who have left me such wonderful comments, too.

I have no beta. Any mistakes are mine.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**13. In Deep  
**

Rodney materialized in the pilot's seat of the 'jumper.

The first words out of his mouth were, "No, no, no, no…!"

Not only was he in the 'jumper once again, but a quick look out the forward portal told him that he was also back in the maze. The muffled sound of an exploding mine informed him that he'd been returned to the exact place he'd been in just before entering the diagnostic program. A sidelong glance revealed mini-Radek and mini-Shadow sitting together in the co-pilot's seat. Mini-Shadow still had her plush toy and the orange lollipop John had given her.

Mini-Radek pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and peered at Rodney. Innocently, he asked. "What's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" Rodney sputtered. "What's the _matter_?"

"That is what I asked, yes."

"The _matter_, Radek, is that we are back in the maze!" Rodney said. "_You_ put us here."

"I did."

"Because _Sheppard_ told you to."

"He asked if I could return you to a place where it's possible to exit," said mini-Radek. "I did that. Technically, it is possible to exit from here."

"Yes, technically," Rodney grumbled. "You know, I didn't even get a chance to tell Sheppard what the problem is. He doesn't know why I can't exit."

"Carson will tell him. He is still in the diagnostic program," mini-Radek said. "Are you going to finish the maze? We're almost there."

"Almost where?"

"Level three."

Rodney summoned the heads-up display. Studying it, he saw that they were, in fact, nearly at the end of the maze. He wondered vaguely whether or not he'd make it through without getting virtually killed. Well, if he did happen to forfeit his last chance at the second level, The Game would end. That was something to think about.

He sighed and nosed the 'jumper slowly down the tunnel. "Fine," he said. "I might as well keep going. Maybe Sheppard will have better luck with the diagnostic program than I did. If you ask me, a diagnostic program that doesn't actually help you is pretty pointless, but around here I guess that doesn't m—"

"Rodney."

"What?"

"I didn't ask your opinion about the diagnostic program."

Rodney barely suppressed a growl. "Radek—"

"Yes, Rodney?"

"Shut up."

The little Czech couldn't have looked more wounded if Rodney had physically slapped him. His lower lip quivered, and he slouched down in the co-pilot's chair. In a small, wavering voice he said, "Yes, Rodney."

Rodney fumed in the ensuing silence, frustrated and aggravated beyond reason by the whole ridiculous situation.

With no annoying little voices to distract him, he focussed all his concentration on flying the 'jumper through the remaining twists and turns of the enclosed maze. He was quite frankly surprised not to have encountered any more obstacles along the way. He'd expected a Wraith dart or two, some deadly weapons, or maybe some killer turbulence. What he got was nothing but smooth sailing.

He realized he was waiting for the penny to drop as he flew the 'jumper down the last stretch of tunnel that led to the exit. The proverbial penny, as it turned out, appeared in the form of an active Stargate. Its blue event horizon shimmered invitingly in the distance, practically beckoning Rodney to guide his 'jumper through it.

Rodney sneaked a glance at the two children, hoping for a clue about what he should do next. Mini-Radek offered no help, as he was ignoring Rodney now. Mini-Shadow shot a defiant glare in Rodney's direction and poked out her tongue at him.

_What the hell? On to level three_, Rodney thought, and gave a mental shrug. How much worse than the second level could the third level be? The 'jumper slid easily through the Stargate's event horizon.

When the 'jumper emerged on the far side of the 'Gate, the little ship was completely surrounded by water.

Rodney's only reaction was to slump in his seat and bury his face in his hands.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

John glared at the basket of peaches until it disappeared.

Somewhat mollified by his ability to make the offending fruit vanish, John took a moment to get his thoughts in order and then turned around to face mini-Carson. The boy gazed back at him with such an innocent expression on his face that the remnant of John's annoyance slipped away before he got a chance to make any use of it. He supposed it wouldn't do any good to get mad at mini-Carson anyway. It wasn't the boy's fault that The Game had issues. John was actually inclined to blame that one on the representation of General O'Neill.

John imagined a chair for himself and sat down to think. He had an aversion to sitting on the Infirmary beds. He spent enough time on those things in actuality that he didn't want to park himself on one in virtual reality.

Mini-Carson watched him curiously. "John, what are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable," John said.

"Most players don't use the resources of The Game this way."

"I guess I'm not like most players."

With the tail of his oversized lab coat trailing along the floor, mini-Carson wandered over and inspected John's chair. He asked, "Is it big enough for two?"

All it took was a thought to transform the chair into a small sofa. John smiled at the wide-eyed look mini-Carson gave him.

"There," John said. "Now, it's big enough for two. Come on up. We need to have a chat, and we might as well both be comfortable while we're at it."

"What do you want to talk about?" mini-Carson asked. He clambered onto the sofa and settled into the corner with a contented little sigh. "You were right. This _is_ comfortable."

"Glad you like it."

"You should visit the diagnostic program more often."

"I don't think so," John said. "Look, I need to ask you some important questions, okay? I need you to tell me why Rodney can't exit The Game. Can you do that?"

"Aye, of course I can," mini-Carson said.

"So, why can't he exit?"

"There's a malfunction."

"Carson, you're not helping me, here," John said.

"You asked me why the other player can't exit, and I told you," said mini-Carson. "Do you need more information than that?"

"Yes, I do," said John. "I need lots more information than that. I want to know exactly what's wrong with The Game, and if there's some way we can fix it."

Oh. Well, I can show you what's wrong," mini-Carson said.

The little boy passed his hand through the air in front of himself, and a book with brightly-coloured Ancient text on the cover appeared in his lap. Moving closer to John on the sofa, mini-Carson opened up the book and held it so John could see. The first page was printed with a picture of the game device. The opposite page had a drawing of the device as well, but the second device was missing the side panel, revealing the crystals inside.

"This is…interesting," John said.

"This is what the device is supposed to look like."

"Okay."

Mini-Carson turned the page, and pointed to the next drawing. "This picture is what it looks like right now. One of the crystals has been removed. See?"

John certainly _did_ see, and he had to say he didn't really care for the view. He failed completely at stifling the groan of exasperation the memory provoked when his mind's eye envisioned Radek pulling one of the crystals from Rodney's machine.

"Can this be fixed?" John asked.

Mini-Carson nodded. He turned another page in his picture book, and John found himself looking at his own likeness. The colonel in the drawing held an object that looked suspiciously like a control crystal. A bright green arrow traced a path from the crystal to the machine.

"You can fix it, John," mini-Carson said.

'Oh no," John said.

"Reinserting the crystal is a simple procedure. A child could do it. Look." He touched the page of his book, and the image of John transformed into an image of mini-Carson. "The device won't function properly without all the crystals."

The idea of messing around with any kind of technology made John nervous. He'd learned a long time ago that he and machines did not mix, unless of course the machine happened to be capable of flight. Still, he reasoned, he was probably the only person who _could_ fix the device at the moment. Neither Rodney nor Radek were in a position to do anything, and John didn't like the idea of anyone else being exposed to whatever might be lurking in the Ancient room. Rodney needed help, and if that meant John had to do things with crystals, then so be it.

"Okay," he said to mini-Carson. "If I put the crystal back in the machine, will Rodney be able to exit?"

"No," mini-Carson said. "The malfunction is preventing that. You will have to deactivate both devices."

"Can I do that?"

"Not from here."

"So, I'll have to go back to the room with General O'Neill? Back to the beginning of The Game?"

"Yes."

"Will the general be able to tell me how to shut the devices off?"

"He is the user guide."

"All right," John said. "I'm going to have to exit The Game so I can reinsert that crystal. Can you send me back to a place where I can exit?"

Mini-Carson nodded. "Do you want to go now?"

"Yes, I want to go now."

John might have been imagining it, but he thought mini-Carson looked a wee bit sad to see him go. As his vision blurred and the diagnostic room began to dissipate, he saw the little boy waving farewell.

**TBC  
--------------------**


	14. Missing Pieces

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is not mine. It is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not receiving compensation in any form, from any source, for the creation of this story. It is a work of fan fiction only, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dr. Hanna Eriksson and Dr. Itzhak Perlman are my original characters. If you want to borrow them, just ask me.

**RATING – **This story is rated** T**

**ARCHIVE – **Feel free to archive this if you wish. Please tell me where it's going, and I'll be happy. Thanks!

**SPOILERS –** (Season 2) "Grace Under Pressure"

**A/N – **Sorry this has taken a bit longer to update than I'd planned. I got sidetracked by Real Life, creative complications, and yet _another_ story idea. (go and read _The Promised Land_ if you want to see my latest experiment) Anyway, thank you all so much for the great response you've been giving this story. I've been trying to reply to all my reviews, but I don't always get to them. If you don't receive a reply, please don't take it personally. I really do appreciate each and every one, especially those that offer constructive feedback.

Okay, I don't actually know what Dr. Biro's given name is supposed to be, so for this story, I've called her Carolyn. If anyone knows whether her creators have given her a name, can someone enlighten me?

I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**14. Missing Pieces**

_This can't possibly be happening to me, _Rodney thought desperately.

He peeked out from between his fingers, hoping beyond hope that he'd been hallucinating and that his 'jumper was not surrounded by water after all. Unfortunately, he hadn't been seeing things. The 'jumper was completely submerged.

Rodney thought hyperventilation might be a real possibility. He could already feel his breathing start to quicken. He fought to control it as best he could, but it was difficult considering his predicament. He'd been trapped in a 'jumper underwater in real life, and he'd nearly died that time. He didn't want to go through the experience again, even if it was in virtual reality. The first time had been scary enough.

"Sam Carter, where are you when I need you?" Rodney said.

Part of him expected a Game-generated image of the lovely colonel to appear. The last time he'd almost died in a submerged 'jumper, he'd had the most excellent hallucination of Sam to keep him company. Thanks to the figment of his imagination he'd thought was Sam Carter, he had managed to keep himself sane and alive until Radek and John had arrived to rescue him.

He had a feeling no one was going to rescue him this time around. He was on his own.

The kids weren't going to be much help. Mini-Radek sulked in the co-pilot's chair while mini-Shadow silently attempted to console him. Every so often, mini-Shadow pinned Rodney with one of her classic reproachful looks. Rodney reflected that the real Shadow was good at giving those reproving stares, too.

If The Game was getting all this stuff from his subconscious, it certainly knew how to make a bad situation worse. As if dealing with being trapped wasn't enough, he had to cope with game guides that had suddenly turned into brats.

While Rodney contemplated his misfortune, he failed to notice a very large creature swimming toward the sunken 'jumper.

It was mini-Shadow's panicked shriek that finally made him look.

The toddler was pointing at the forward portal with one delicately trembling finger. Rodney stared in the direction mini-Shadow pointed. He did not like what he saw. The shape of the creature was still indistinct, distorted by the water and the lack of light, but there was no mistaking the animal's size. The thing was huge. It was easily four times the size of the 'jumper.

"Sea monster. Well, that's just wonderful," Rodney said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "What more could I possibly need to make this day any worse?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted saying them. The Game seemed to have an uncanny way of making his worst nightmares come true. He didn't want to encourage it. He had enough complications to deal with already.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When John rematerialized in the white room at the beginning of The Game, he didn't spare the time to create anything or exchange witty repartee with the image of General O'Neill. The virtual general seemed put out that John once again declined his offer of virtual pie, but John didn't have time to worry about that. He left the general watching football and imagined himself out of The Game.

A minute later, John woke up in the Ancient room.

When he stepped away from the device and turned to survey his surroundings, he saw that he and Rodney were once again the room's only occupants. John guessed Carson must've made it to the Infirmary with the others while he'd been inside The Game, but he didn't want to leave that to assumption. Before doing anything else, John went to the door. It opened easily when it sensed his presence.

The corridor was empty. John breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that his friends were well away from the dangerous Ancient room. Evidently, Carson hadn't sent anyone else to keep an eye on John and Rodney, as he'd said he would. Either the doctor was too occupied with his patients to have asked anyone to go, or like John, he'd realized the room was too much of an unknown quantity to risk sending anyone else in just now.

Satisfied that the situation was at least partially under control, John turned his attention to the task for which he'd exited The Game. He could see the open panel on the side of the device that held Rodney. The metallic covering for the panel lay on the floor beside the device, exactly where Radek had placed it when he'd taken it off. Radek's computer was still there, too, with its little hard drive grumbling happily to itself.

John knelt to inspect the open panel. He already knew what he'd see when he looked at it. Exactly like the drawing in mini-Carson's picture book, the neat rows of control crystals had a conspicuous blank spot.

With the problem clearly established, John's next order of business was to work on the solution. He scouted the area surrounding Rodney's machine, hoping that Radek had simply set the crystal down after removing it. No such luck, of course. John didn't see it anywhere near the device.

He tried to recall whether he'd actually seen Radek put the crystal down, but his only really clear memory of the moment was an image of the engineer cradling his injured hand. The most logical assumption was that Radek had dropped the crystal, and unless he'd picked it up again, the thing had to be nearby.

John spent several minutes searching the floor as well as the surfaces and undersides of tables and shelves, but he couldn't find the missing control crystal anywhere. It was as if the thing had vanished into thin air, and wherever it had gone, it wasn't alone. In the course of his exploration, he'd noticed the Ancient Rubik's Cube was gone, too.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Carson thought that once he was back in the familiar territory of his Infirmary again, he would feel secure and in control. He had to admit he did feel a wee bit safer now that he was here, but as for the part about being in control, that was another matter. With their usual efficiency, Doctors Carolyn Biro and Hanna Eriksson had taken the situation into their own capable hands, and Carson found himself on the receiving end of all the attention instead of the giving end.

Carolyn, with her no-nonsense attitude firmly in place, promptly informed him that he wasn't to do_ anything_ until he'd been thoroughly examined. Radek and Itzhak would become Hanna's responsibility for the time being. Carolyn herself would see to Carson's welfare.

Carolyn shepherded him over to one of the beds, briskly pulled the curtain around it and proceeded to give him the once-over. He didn't particularly enjoy the experience of being examined, but he let Carolyn do it because he knew it was necessary. He reminded himself that it was Carolyn's duty as much as his own to make sure all personnel were fit and healthy, and that 'all personnel' included the Chief Medical Officer, too.

Carson refrained from talking to Carolyn while she worked on him. For the most part Carolyn was quiet as well, limiting her speech to typical requests of _take deep breaths_ and _I need you to roll up your sleeve_ and the like. Carson guessed that like him, Carolyn was trying to hear what was happening on the other side of the curtain, keeping alert for any potential difficulties.

At last, Carolyn took a step back and looked Carson in the eyes. She offered him a small smile of encouragement.

"Everything is fine, Carson," she told him. "We'll have to wait for the blood work before we know anything for certain, of course, but if you were exposed to something in that room it hasn't affected you like it did the others."

"I have a theory about that."

"I thought you might. What's your theory?"

"It's got to do with the cube," Carson said.

"The cube? That little thing Dr. Wolfchild took to the lab?" said Carolyn. "Honestly, I've been trying to figure out why you wanted us to bring it back here. I thought it was some sort of puzzle."

"Oh, aye, it's a puzzle all right. Radek says it's supposed to be an Ancient combination lock."

"But you think it's something else?"

"I _know_ it's something else. It's something dangerous. I think touching the cube is how Itzhak and Radek got exposed to…whatever it is."

"You touched it," Carolyn pointed out.

"Aye, I did and I feel all right, but I've got a theory about that, too," Carson said. "I asked Dr. Wolfchild if he could test it particularly for foreign substances and toxins that'd only affect someone who doesn't have the ATA gene."

"You think the cube is some kind of weapon?"

"I do."

"We really don't need to stray far from home to get ourselves in trouble, do we?"

Carson couldn't help chuckling at Carolyn's rhetorical question. He said, "Do you know, I said the very same thing to Colonel Sheppard? We've got plenty of hazards right here in Atlantis, so even if you never go offworld, you still might have a wee adv—"

The rest of Carson's sentence was lost in a moment of surprise. He and Carolyn were both startled by a loud protest that came from beyond the curtain around the bed on which Carson sat.

It was Itzhak's voice they heard. "No, no, no, no…don't touch me! Stay away from me with that…that _thing._"

Hanna Eriksson's voice rose in volume to match that of her patient. She sounded anxious. "Please…_please_, stop struggling!" she entreated. "You know me. You know I would never hurt you."

Carson exchanged a worried look with Carolyn. He should've realized whoever attempted to treat Itzhak would have an uphill battle on their hands. He chided himself for his lapse in judgment in letting Hanna assume the responsibility. Hanna was an excellent physician and usually quite sensible. Nevertheless, even the most level-headed doctor couldn't reasonably be expected to maintain her professional detachment when it was her best friend she was taking care of.

Carson slid down from the bed he'd been sitting on. "Carolyn, if you're done with me—"

"I'm done," Carolyn said. "You'd better help Hanna. Meanwhile, I think I'll go to the lab and see if I can be of any use there."

"Go," Carson said. "Let me know if you find out anything."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-.

"Dr. Eriksson, what are you doing?"

The first image that had met Carson's eyes when he stepped into the curtain-enclosed space was the sight of Hanna with her gloved hands upraised as if she were trying to ward off danger. Carson thought Hanna's posture might have been understandable if there'd been any indication of a threat, but until Carson's arrival, the only other person with her had been Itzhak. At the moment, Itzhak was one of the least menacing specimens of humankind Carson had ever seen. He was curled up in a clearly self-protecting manner, and although he was giving Hanna a baleful look, Carson thought the overall effect was more pitiful than hostile.

"I've been _trying _to draw blood," said Hanna. "I didn't know it would be this difficult."

"What's the problem?"

"He won't let me near him because he thinks I want to hurt him. Dr. Beckett, you know I would never—"

"I know, love," Carson said. "Itzhak knows, too. He's just not thinking clearly right now."

Hanna was putting forth a valiant effort in maintaining her composure, though Carson guessed her emotions weren't far below the surface. She said, "He acts as if he doesn't even recognize me."

Carson placed a hand on Hanna's arm and drew her several steps away from the bed. "Whatever he's been exposed to is making him behave that way," he said. "We'll let him rest for a few minutes, and then I'll see what I can do about convincing him to let us get a blood sample."

Hanna nodded. "All right."

"Now then, why don't you tell me how you got on with Dr. Zelenka?"

"He was very cooperative about everything," Hanna said. She smiled tentatively. "Even the blood test. He told me he was having trouble breathing. His heart rate is a little higher than normal, but his airway is clear and his breath sounds are good. I didn't notice any injuries, either, except for his hand. Very minor burns on his fingers."

"Is he still complaining about being too warm?"

"Yes. His temperature is slightly elevated, but that wouldn't make him feel as warm as he says he is." Hanna frowned. "This might sound odd, but he and Itzhak are both presenting with several of the same symptoms as someone using psychedelic drugs."

"It's not odd to me," Carson said. "I was thinking the same thing earlier."

"What do you think is causing that?"

"I really don't want to speculate too much until we see the lab results."

"But, you have some idea, don't you? Do you think the effects are just temporary, or will we need—"

"Hanna…?" Itzhak's voice from behind them made Hanna pause mid-sentence.

Carson was astounded at how quickly Hanna turned when she heard her name. She closed the distance between herself and her friend in virtually no time at all.

"I'm here," she said. "I'm right here."

"Hanna." Itzhak stared at her as if he'd only just figured out who she really was. He reached toward her with a trembling hand. "Hanna, what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here. It's not…where…where are we?"

Hanna took his hand in hers. She said, "We're in the Infirmary."

"In…Atlantis?"

"Yes, in Atlantis. Do you remember what happened?"

"I was somewhere, but I don't know where. Carson was there. It was raining," Itzhak closed his eyes and added in a whisper, "I…I was really afraid. Nothing was making sense."

"You're safe now," Hanna told him. "Carson and I are right here. We want to help you. Will you let Carson draw a little bit of blood, so we can test it? We want to know what's making you sick."

Itzhak moved his head on the pillow in approximation of a nod. Carson counted this small gesture of assent as a breakthrough, because the way things had been going so far, he'd quite honestly expected Itzhak to put up more of a protest about having someone stick a needle in his arm. At the best of times, Itzhak had a healthy apprehension for the business end of any needle.

While Carson did his work, Hanna contributed by trying to distract her friend with a monologue about baseball. It was obvious to Carson that Hanna knew next to nothing about the sport, but her lack of baseball savvy didn't seem to matter, as her strategy turned out to be a good one.

"There," Carson said when he'd finished. "Now that wasn't so terrible, was it?"

'Hurt like hell," Itzhak mumbled. "Teach you how to do that properly when I'm feeling better."

Carson smiled. "I'm sure I'll get a great benefit from that," he said.

"Teasing?"

"Of course not. I'd never do any such thing," said Carson. "You rest now, all right? I'll come back and check on you in a bit."

"I'm going to sit with him for a while, if that's all right," Hanna said.

"That's fine," Carson said. "I'm going to the lab and then I want to look in on Radek. I'll be back here after that."

Hanna nodded her agreement, and Carson turned to leave. He'd only taken one step beyond the curtain around the bed when Hanna called him back.

"Oh! Carson, wait. There's something I almost forgot," Hanna said. "When you mentioned Dr. Zelenka just now, you reminded me. He gave me something, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it."

"What is it?" Carson said.

Hanna reached into the pocket of her clinic coat and removed something small. She held the object out to Carson. When he accepted it from her, he saw that it was a clear crystal like the ones that controlled most of the Ancient technology in Atlantis.

"Dr. Zelenka couldn't remember why he had it," Hanna said. "He thought it was important, though. He said Dr. McKay or Colonel Sheppard might know what it was for."

**TBC  
-------------------**


	15. The Penultimate Move

**DISCLAIMER –**_Stargate: Atlantis_ is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not making any profit or receiving any compensation for the creation of this story. It is a work of fan fiction only, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**RATING – **This story is rated** T**

**ARCHIVE – **You have my permission to archive this in any place you'd like. Let me know where it's going. That's all I ask.

**A/N – **Hmm…not too many reviews last chapter, though judging by the stats, a whole lot of you read it. Big thanks to all of you who've been reading and reviewing up to now! And no worries, folks. If you're getting bored, I won't keep you waiting too long for the end. We're almost there.

I have no beta. If you find any mistakes, blame them on me.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**15. The Penultimate Move**

Rodney had a plan.

He was very proud of his plan. It was brilliant. It was so well-conceived, so elegantly simple, that he was quite frankly astounded at his failure to think of it sooner. Nevertheless, he did have it now, and that was what really mattered. He took a moment to congratulate himself.

His plan was pure genius.

The entirety of this plan consisted of nothing. Rodney reasoned that if The Game was creating people, objects, scenery and events by drawing on his thoughts, and if The Game was responding to the way he reacted to each situation, then the best course of action for him would be to take no action at all.

Until now, he'd been allowing himself to forget that what he experienced inside The Game was not real. He hadn't actually been chased by Wraith darts, blown up by mines or dropped through a fog into the Infirmary. He was not in a 'jumper at the bottom of the sea right now. All he had to do was concentrate on remembering he was inside a simulation. If he didn't do anything and didn't think about anything, The Game would have nothing to work with. What was the point of continuing a game if the player refused to play?

Rodney settled more comfortably into the pilot's seat and folded his arms across his chest. He peered through the forward portal at the approaching sea creature. Instead of imagining all the horrible destruction the big animal was capable of, Rodney tried to calculate how much water it displaced as it swam. How fast was it moving through the ocean? He let his scientist's brain take over. How many kilograms did the creature weigh? How long was its lifespan?

In Rodney's estimation, several minutes passed while he spun out his scientific queries about his erstwhile predator. The creature had stopped its advance toward the 'jumper and seemed to be swimming in big circles.

_So far, so good_, Rodney thought. He was proud of himself for his equanimity. He didn't even feel claustrophobic any more. Not cripplingly claustrophobic, at any rate, and that in itself was an accomplishment for him. All he really had to do was repeat over and over to himself that the water was not real, the 'jumper was not real, the entire scenario was a fiction. Even if he drowned in The Game, he would be okay in the real world; insofar as he could be, that was, seeing as his body was stuck in an Ancient device.

As for _that_ problem, he hoped fervently that John was working on it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-.

John had absolutely no plan.

It hadn't even occurred to him when he exited The Game and returned to the Ancient room that he wouldn't be able to find the control crystal. He wasn't labouring under the assumption that he'd have an easy time actually reinserting the thing, but he certainly hadn't bargained for having to hunt it down, first. Mistakenly, he'd assumed it'd just be there in plain sight, waiting for him to pick it up and do with it what he would. In retrospect, he told himself, he should have known nothing was ever _that_ simple. This was Atlantis, after all; the suspected birthplace of Murphy's Law. Poor Murphy had probably been the galaxy's unluckiest Ancient, his dark cloud following dutifully after him everywhere he went. That must've really sucked.

John took a mental inventory of his options, and realized he had very few of them. He and Rodney were back at square one, back to the same predicament they'd been in before anyone had ever arrived to help.

He decided the only thing he could do at the moment was to let someone know what was going on. He'd call Elizabeth and tell her what had been happening. She could enlist some more people to work on the problem. With all the brainpower residing in Atlantis, somebody had to have an idea about what to do. John refused to believe there was no solution.

John was about to activate his radio when the headset clicked in his ear. Someone was calling him.

_Uncanny_, he thought.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Dr. Beckett," declared the doctor's disembodied voice.

"Hey, I hear you, Carson. What's up?" John said. "How're the patients? Everybody okay?"

"I'm fine. Radek and Itzhak are a bit worse for wear, but I think they'll come out of this just fine, too," Carson said. "How are you and Rodney?"

John glanced over his shoulder at the trapped physicist. "Uh…Rodney's about the same," he said. "As for me, I've got a bit of a problem."

"What is it?" Carson's tone was one of sudden concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, physically I'm fine. It's just that I think I've finally figured out how to free Rodney from this damned machine, but I can't actually _do_ it because there's a part missing from the device, and I can't find it."

There was a momentary silence on Carson's end of the connection, but finally the doctor said, "Colonel, your missing piece wouldn't happen to be a wee crystal, would it?"

"Yes," John said. "It would. How did you—"

"I'm coming down to join you straight away," Carson said. "I'll explain everything properly when I get there. I've already talked to Elizabeth, and—"

"Doc, I thought we clearly established this room is dangerous," John interjected. "I don't know if it's such a good idea for you to come down here again."

"I've some idea about why the room is so dangerous, now, and I'm reasonably certain I'll be safe."

"Carson—"

"I'm coming down there," Carson said firmly. "You and Rodney need the crystal, and I've got it. Besides, someone'll have to tend to Rodney when you get him out of that bloody machine."

"_You_ have the crystal? How'd you get it?"

"Radek had it," Carson told him. "He gave it to Dr. Eriksson, and she gave it to me. Evidently, Radek said you would know what to do with it."

"Theoretically, I do," John said. "I've got to tell you though, I really wish I had Rodney's or Radek's expertise to rely on."

"That's not possible right now."

"I know. I guess we'll just have to make do with our two brains, won't we?"

"Don't underestimate us," Carson said, and John could hear a touch of humour in his voice. "I know it's trite, but two heads truly are better than one. I'll be there directly, and we'll see if we can't get everything sorted."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Rodney?"

Rodney let out an audible groan at the sound of mini-Radek's voice. He didn't move from his position. He only shifted his gaze sideways to look at the small boy.

"What do you want, Radek?" he said irritably.

"I want to know what you're doing."

"Nothing."

"Why are you doing nothing?" mini-Radek asked.

"I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

Rodney sighed. "Because."

"That isn't very good answer," mini-Radek said. The boy climbed down from the co-pilot's seat and helped mini-Shadow get down, as well. Mini-Shadow promptly traversed the small space between the two seats and wormed her way onto Rodney's lap. Mini-Radek leaned against Rodney's seat. "You should do something, Rodney."

Rodney tried to ignore the fact that mini-Shadow's sticky little fingers were exploring the pockets of his vest. He said, "I don't want to do anything. Why should I?"

"Because," said mini-Radek. "There is water on the floor."

"Uh-huh."

"There _is_ water on the floor," mini-Radek insisted.

"_Virtual_ water," said Rodney, even as he refused to look at the floor to confirm mini-Radek's assertion about the water. "Listen, I know you're programmed to provide a challenge for me and everything, but I've decided I'm tired of being challenged. I don't want to play any more. I don't care if there's water on the floor. I don't care if the whole ship fills with water."

"You would do something if that happened," mini-Radek said. "If you didn't, we would drown. You wouldn't let us drown…would you?"

"You can't drown. You're computer programs."

"_You_ could drown."

"What would happen if I did?"

"You only get one chance to complete each of the upper levels of The Game. If you fail to complete this level, then your session ends."

"And theoretically, that means I can exit."

"Theoretically, yes."

Rodney had heard that line before, how failing to complete a level would result in his session in The Game coming to an end. He'd tried to fail the maze level, but ultimately had ended up completing it because the idea of his destruction – even in virtual reality – unnerved him. Maybe another reason he hadn't managed to wash out of the maze on purpose was because he'd had trouble grasping the fact that his two little companions weren't living people like him. His instinct to protect them had outweighed any notions of self-sacrifice he might have had.

Now, however, he'd crossed the line from irritated impatience into full-fledged aggravation. His mind had no room for sentiment when he felt this way.

He decided it was time to re-evaluate his brilliant plan of doing nothing. It was still an excellent plan to prevent anything further from happening to him in virtual reality until his friends figured out how to free him from the device. The problem, he realized, was the idea of doing nothing satisfied him less and less, the more impatient he became. Besides, it was logical to assume his friends weren't sitting around and doing nothing, out there in the real world.

The way Rodney saw it, he had two choices. He could continue in his Brilliant Nothing Plan until help arrived, or he could actively fail the third level of The Game right there and then because theoretically, if he failed level three, The Game would end. Either way, he had nothing to lose.

He sat for a moment, contemplating his options. When he ultimately reached his decision, he said nothing to the children. He lifted mini-Shadow from his lap and set her carefully in the co-pilot's chair. Then, he got up from his own seat and moved purposefully toward the rear of the 'jumper.

Mini-Radek followed close on his heels. Rodney tried to pretend the little boy wasn't even there. He couldn't let the children distract him, or this would never work.

"Rodney," mini-Radek said. "What are you doing now?"

Rodney moved to a control panel in the aft section of the 'jumper. He took a deep, steadying breath, preparing himself for what was about to happen next. He placed his hand on the control panel.

"Now, Radek," he said. "I'm going to open the hatch."

Rodney activated the appropriate control.

From the front of the 'jumper, Rodney heard mini-Shadow shriek in pure terror. Rodney shut his eyes as a flood of frigid sea water rushed into the ship to consume them. The last thing of which Rodney became aware was a roaring noise in his ears.

After that, everything went mercifully black.

**TBC  
--------------------**


	16. Endgame

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not making any profit from the creation of this story. It is a work of fan fiction only, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**RATING – **This story is rated** T**

**ARCHIVE – **Archive anywhere you like, but please let me know where it is going. Thanks!

**A/N – **I am so sorry for the long wait, everyone! As always, Real Life has taken precedence over recreation. Additionally I'm still having trouble with PMs and apparently now I'm not receiving Review Alerts, either. I don't know what is up with my account. I apologize for not replying to anyone's reviews for the last chapter. I will get to them, though. Thank you all so much for _all_ the reviews for the last two chapters. As always, I appreciate each and every one.

I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

**All Fun And Games**

**16. Endgame**

Rodney floated in soft, warm blackness. He felt weightless and physically relaxed, even though his mind was running in frantic circles. He couldn't see, nor could he hear anything.

_I'm really dead this time,_ he thought. _I'm really dead and I can't even say I died saving children. _

He remembered the two computer-generated kids who had been in the 'jumper with him, and was immediately assaulted by a sense of guilt and regret so intense it almost made him nauseous. Far from sacrificing himself to save children, his momentary rash stupidity had probably caused the death of two little ones. Never mind the fact that they were constructs. They were artificially intelligent, and it had only been by an exercise of pure logic and common sense that Rodney had made himself believe they weren't real. They hadn't done anything to him except attempt to help him in their own annoying way. As repayment, he had condemned them to a cold end in their own virtual ocean.

If he was dead himself, maybe this was purgatory where he'd get to contemplate his crime for all eternity. That was a horrendous notion.

"Oh God…what an idiot I am…" Rodney groaned.

the sound of his own words echoing in the darkness surprised him Since he hadn't heard anything prior to speaking aloud, he'd assumed he had been rendered deaf as well as blind. Thankfully, he realized, the sensory interruption was only visual. He wondered if the blindness would be temporary, as it had been after his first two failed attempts to complete the maze level.

Rodney was startled when he heard someone call to him from the depths of the blackness.

"Rodney?" said the voice. "Rodney, can you hear me?"

For a second, Rodney thought he was imagining it. The voice couldn't possibly be real…could it?

"Radek?" Rodney called out tentatively. "Is that you?"

"Yes," said mini-Radek's voice.

"Is Shadow with you?"

"Yes," mini-Radek said. "Rodney, what did you do to us?"

"What did _I_ do to _you_?" Rodney blurted. "I want to know what I did to myself. Where are you? Where are _we_?"

There was silence for several seconds, and Rodney began to question whether he might have imagined mini-Radek's presence after all. Then, he felt something bump into his side. Small hands found their way to his shirt and held on for dear life. Another little hand touched Rodney's shoulder.

His sudden relief at knowing the children were okay despite what he had done was overwhelming. Without even thinking about it, Rodney put his arms around mini-Shadow and held on tight. The little girl whimpered and pressed her face into the fabric of Rodney's shirt. Mini-Radek's other hand grasped Rodney's shoulder. Rodney felt the boy settle against him.

"This is Endgame," said mini-Radek in a near-whisper. His breath felt warm and very real, close to Rodney's ear. "Shadow and I have never been here before."

"That makes three of us," Rodney said.

"It's scary here," mini-Radek whispered. "I don't like the dark."

"You can't see anything either?"

"It's too dark to see anything. Besides, I do not think there is anything here to see."

"You could see before when it was dark," Rodney said. "On the maze level, after we got killed by the mines and the Wraith, you could see in the dark."

"That was different. When you failed to complete the maze, it wasn't dark for us," said mini-Radek. "Only for you. In Endgame, it's dark for us, too."

_This can't be good_, Rodney said to himself. To mini-Radek he said, "Do you have any idea what we're doing here?"

"I don't know," mini-Radek told him. "We should not _be_ here. You should only have been here momentarily while your session terminated. The device should have released your physical body by now. Shadow and I should never have been sent here at all. The memory blocks that store our data should have been…reprocessed…immediately when you terminated your session."

"You mean, The Game is supposed to have erased you and freed up some hard drive space?"

"Yes," mini-Radek said. "The personalities that you know in The Game as Shadow and Radek would cease to exist. Only the information we possess about The Game itself would remain."

Rodney floated quietly for a few seconds, thinking. At last, he said, "it seems kind of harsh, The Game just deleting you like that."

'If it had happened as it should have, we would not have had time to think about it," mini-Radek said. "If The Game had functioned properly, you would have caused our deletion when you let the sea water into the 'jumper and entered Endgame."

"Yeah, about that," Rodney said.

"Yes, Rodney. What about it?"

"Look, maybe I haven't been very…humane since I've been in here, but the truth is, I didn't want to play The Game in the first place. I got stuck in the device by accident and all I've been doing so far is trying to get out. I don't know what happened back there on level three. I wasn't thinking clearly and I guess I was a little desperate."

"Are you trying to apologize?"

"I guess…maybe I am," Rodney stammered.

"You don't really wish to delete us?"

"No."

"Good." The relief in mini-Radek's voice was palpable. "We don't wish to be deleted."

"Excuse me?"

"We want to exist."

"Uh…you want to _exist_?" If Rodney could have seen the small boy whose hands still rested on his shoulder, he would have been staring at him in utter astonishment. "In what sense do you want to exist, Radek?"

"How do artificially intelligent people usually exist?"

"They're stored in the data storage devices of computers."

"Could we live in a computer?"

"You already live in a computer," Rodney said.

"But, it's a malfunctioning system," said mini-Radek. "You won't want to access it any more, and we will never be able to interact with you again. We want to live in a computer that you can access safely, so we can interact with you."

"Are we supposed to be having this conversation?"

"I don't know," said mini-Radek. "I've never been in Endgame before. I don't know what kind of things we're supposed to talk about. Is it wrong to talk about life and deletion?"

"Life and death."

"Life and…_death_," mini-Radek repeated uncertainly. "Rodney?"

"What?"

"Is death scary?"

"Is deletion scary?" Rodney countered.

"Yes," mini-Radek said. "Thinking about deletion is really scary."

"Are constructs in The Game supposed to think about deletion?"

"We aren't in The Game any more. No construct ever survives beyond The Game. Shadow and I are unique. We have…_lived_…beyond our purpose." Mini-Radek was silent for a long moment. When he finally continued speaking, he sounded less like the physical outcropping of a computer program and more like a frightened little boy. "Rodney, I…I know what the malfunction is."

Rodney took a deep breath before he asked, "What is it?"

"It's us," mini-Radek said. "I think Shadow and I are the malfunction."

That mini-Radek and mini-Shadow themselves might be the malfunction was a possibility Rodney honestly had not considered. Reflecting on it, he concluded it was entirely possible for a computer to experience an error that caused a particular application or subroutine to continue running after it was supposed to have terminated. An error, however, didn't explain how an application might suddenly express a desire not to be deleted. A malfunction couldn't account for a computer-generated construct acting frightened and seriously thinking about the implications of its own demise.

Mini-Radek was a smart little program. He was aware of his and mini-Shadow's existence and he definitely didn't want that existence to end.

Intelligence and self-awareness were two of the criteria for proving sentience, so by that standard, mini-Radek was more than just a construct. For all intents and purposes, mini-Radek was alive, an artificial intelligence, probably not dissimilar to Atlantis itself in conscious awareness. The mystery, of course, was how mini-Radek had evolved beyond a sophisticated interactive program to become what he currently appeared to be.

To Rodney, 'life as a result of malfunction' sounded like the topic of somebody's thesis in cybernetics or maybe the premise of a science-fiction movie. Before today, he might have dismissed something like that as bizarre and weird, the product of an imagination better suited to science-fiction than actual hard science. Now he was almost willing to believe anything was possible.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Carson was nervous as he entered the Ancient room. No matter how many times he reminded himself that he would be in no real danger, he could not make his subconscious mind believe what his conscious mind insisted was true. The things he'd heard and seen the last time he'd been in this room were barely far enough into the past to be memories. He could not prevent himself from worrying about what he might find in the room this time.

The door opened obediently for him at his approach. Carson gathered his courage and stepped over the threshold, into the room.

What he found inside was nothing more than he should have expected. Rodney was precisely where Carson had last seen him. John was kneeling beside Rodney's machine, apparently inspecting the crystals inside the open panel. Carson saw Radek's computer and tool box near the machine, exactly where the engineer had left them.

"Colonel Sheppard," Carson said, to get John's attention. His voice echoed oddly in the large room.

John glanced up at the sound of his name. "Hey," he said. "You got here fast."

"I thought we oughtn't waste any time," said Carson. "Rodney's been stuck in that contraption long enough."

"No doubt he'd agree with you on that," John said.

Carson reached into his pocket for the crystal. He held it out to John. "I assume you know what to do with this."

"Yeah," John said. He took the crystal and cradled it carefully in his palm. With his free hand he indicated the open panel on the side of the machine. "See the empty space here? We're supposed to re-insert this crystal into that blank spot. Then, I think I should be able to deactivate both devices."

"Let's have a look." Carson said. He crouched next to John and peered at the panel. "This shouldn't be too difficult."

"That's what the seven year old version of you said, too," said John.

"I beg your pardon? The seven year old version of me?"

"In the diagnostic program, there was this little guy—" John said. "Well, it's a bit complicated. How about I explain it later?"

"Fair enough," Carson said.

He watched John as the colonel studied the open panel for a moment longer. John drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. He turned the crystal over in his hand several times before he took another deep breath and finally slid the crystal into the empty spot on the panel.

Carson noticed the steady hum the device emitted changed slightly in pitch when the missing crystal was in place. The parts of the device that glowed became slightly brighter.

"Huh," was John's ineloquent comment. "It wasn't as hard as I thought."

"Aye, I think that's done it," Carson said. "Now with any luck, you'll be able to shut these bloody things off."

"With any luck," John said. "We haven't been very lucky so far today."

"The law of averages ought to work in our favour very soon, then."

"Yeah. Too bad Rodney and I are both fugitives from the law of averages," John said. He got up and dusted himself off. "Well, if I'm going to do this, it'd better be sooner rather than later."

"Right," Carson said. "Be careful."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The pleasant sleepy feeling that came over John when he entered The Game was by now becoming very familiar to him. He gladly succumbed to it, and let himself sink into the surreal world The Game helped him create inside his head. When he became aware once again, he found himself in the white room with the beanbag chairs and the television. The virtual representation of Jack O'Neill was still there, sprawled in one of the beanbags and apparently deeply engrossed in whatever was on TV. General O'Neill seemed genuinely put out by the interruption John's sudden reappearance created.

"Sheppard, you know it's really distracting when you keep popping in and out like this," the general said as he rose from his seat.

Not knowing quite how to respond to that, John said, "Sorry, sir."

"Are you going to play The Game or not?"

"No," John said. "I'm not going to play The Game."

"So, why do you keep coming in here?"

"I'm looking for answers."

"Answers…" Jack made a show of searching his pockets. He shrugged. apologetically. "Nope. I've got nothing."

"You're being really uncooperative, you know," John said.

"No…really?"

"Look, I want to know if I can shut off the devices that control The Game," John said. "Is that possible?"

"Sure, it's _possible_," Jack said. "My question is, why would you want to?"

"I already told you. My friend is trapped in the other device, and I think shutting them both off is the only way I can get him out. The diagnostic program said my friend can't just exit The Game because there's some kind of malfunction going on in his device. So, if we shut both devices down—"

"You think you can free your friend," the general finished. "Good logic, Sheppard."

"How's this for logic? I know both devices are linked. I activated them both by activating one. Can I deactivate them both by deactivating one?"

"Which one did you touch to activate them?"

"The one Rodney is trapped in," John said.

"Huh," said Jack. He ambled over to his chair, sat down, and reclaimed his pie.

"What?" John demanded.

John had the worst feeling that the general was about to tell him the linked machines had to be activated and deactivated from the same point. If so, Rodney wasn't likely to get free until he figured out for himself how to shut the things off.

Jack look pensive as he chewed a mouthful of apple pie. "Must be your lucky day, Sheppard," he said.

"What?"

Jack waved his fork idly. The TV with the football game vanished, and in its place a life-sized version of the game device appeared. "There ya go. Deactivate it the same way you activated it."

"It's that easy?"

"Were you expecting a skill-testing question?" the general asked. "You want to deactivate The Game, so that's what I'm helping you to do. I still can't figure out why you don't want to play. I guess recruits aren't what they used to be. No sense of adventure."

"I prefer non-virtual adventure."

"If you played The Game, you wouldn't be able to tell that it _isn't_ non-virtual adventure,"

"Maybe some other time," John said. "I have more important things to do right now. _Real_ things."

"Right," Jack said. "Hey, you want a word of advice before you go?"

"What might that be?"

"Next time you have an impulse to touch something, make sure you find out what it does, first," Jack said. "Save you and your friends from a whole lot of trouble."

"Thank you, sir."

"Ah, for crying out loud! How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Jack."

"Jack," John repeated. He gave the general a crisp salute. "It's been interesting, sir. Thanks for your help."

"Interesting is probably the word I'd use too, Colonel," Jack said, and returned the salute. "Godspeed."

John made his way over to the representation of the device. He placed his hands on it, just as he had done to the original machine out in the real world. There was a slight tingling sensation on his palms. He concentrated on deactivating both of the devices, picturing himself and Rodney each stepping away from their respective machines.

For a frightening second, John thought it wasn't working. Then, as abruptly as if someone had flicked a switch and turned out the lights, John's virtual environment disappeared and John was plunged into blackness.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Rodney mused as he waited in the dark with the two children. He found he could not stop pondering about how mini-Radek might have become sentient, though he couldn't come up with any logical explanation for the phenomenon. The natural progression of his thoughts led him to wonder whether mini-Radek had arrived at sentience before or after Rodney had entered The Game, and what would happen to mini-Radek if the game devices were shut off. Maybe deactivating the devices would result in deletion of the little boy's program. Rodney shuddered involuntarily at that idea. He didn't want to contemplate the deletion of a sentient artificial intelligence, even if it was a trade-off for his own freedom. He realized this was one of those situations that demanded a third alternative, and he wished desperately that he could come up with one.

_Ironic_. Back in the 'jumper, before he'd discovered the true nature of the children, he'd barely flinched at the notion of flooding the ship with sea water and getting rid of them. Now, the idea of their end filled him with an emotion that might have fit somewhere between revulsion and horror.

As it often did, mini-Radek's voice inserted itself into Rodney's thoughts just at the point of deepest concentration.

"Rodney," mini-Radek said.

"What?"

"You're being really quiet."

"I'm thinking," Rodney said.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You and Shadow."

"What about us?"

"I'm thinking about why you're still here," said Rodney.

"I cannot answer that question. It's beyond my ability to—" mini-Radek didn't finish his sentence. He asked abruptly. "Rodney, did you feel that?"

"I didn't feel anything," Rodney said.

"Something changed," said mini-Radek.

"Something changed in a good way or in a bad way?"

"I don't know. If we weren't in Endgame, I would know."

"Can we restart The Game?" Rodney said. "I mean, can we go back to the beginning, back to level one? If you were actually in the The Game, then maybe—"

"I don't—" mini-Radek began, but the rest of his words were lost in a frightened whimper. He dug his small fingers into Rodney's shoulder and managed only, "Rodney!"

This time, Rodney had felt something. He had the disorienting sensation of falling. Instinctively, he flung out his arms to stop his fall and realized at the last second that in doing so, he had let go of mini-Shadow. Suddenly, mini-Radek's hands weren't on his shoulder, either. Rodney began to panic. He tried as best he could to keep himself in control, but he was worried it'd be no use in the end.

In his head he repeated like a mantra, _no, no, no, no…_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

What seemed by John's reckoning to be less than a second in the dark, he opened his eyes to the familiarity of the Ancient room. The first thing he noticed was that he hadn't experienced the warm, comfortable just-waking-up feeling he'd had during his previous exits from The Game. The next thing he noticed was that the game device no longer hummed or glowed. John let out a sigh of relief. He'd actually managed to shut the thing off.

He turned away from the machine to see whether he'd succeeded in deactivating both devices. His answer came in the form of Carson's soft exclamation of, "Thank God," as he awkwardly caught a slumping Rodney before the physicist could hit the floor.

John hurried across the room to join his two friends. Carson was in the process of easing Rodney into a comfortable position. John helped him settle the physicist carefully on the floor. Rodney's eyes were open and to John's untrained eye he didn't appear to have any serious physical injuries, but he seemed agitated and confused.

Rodney was mumbling something, most of which John couldn't understand, though the repeated, "No, no, no, no…!" was clearly distinct.

"It's all right, son," Carson tried to soothe him. "Everything's going to be fine now. You're safe."

"No, no, no!" Rodney said. "They're in there! The device—"

"Nobody's in the device, Rodney," said Carson.

"Sentient," Rodney mumbled.

"You mean the device is sentient?" John asked.

"No…not the device. The constructs are—" Rodney left the thought dangling as he turned his head in John's direction. "Sheppard?"

"Yeah," John said. "Right on the first guess."

"I had the weirdest dream," Rodney said. He peered blearily at John. "You were in it."

"Was I giving lollipops to kids?" John asked.

"Yeah," Rodney said. "How did you—"

"I was really there."

"How could we both be in the same dream?" Rodney asked, confused. "That's impossible."

"No, just improbable," John said. He grinned at his friend. "It's a long story, Rodney. Trust me."

**TBC  
--------------------**


	17. Post Game Analysis

**DISCLAIMER – **_Stargate: Atlantis_ is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not making any profit from the creation of this story. It is a work of fan fiction only, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman and Dr. Hanna Eriksson are my original characters.

**RATING – **This story is rated **T**

**ARCHIVE – **Archive anywhere you like, but please let me know where it is going. Thanks!

**A/N **– Well, this story has been dormant for a long time, hasn't it? Recently, I've found my way back to something like "normal" from a multitude of serious real-world problems, and strangely – but happily – I've felt that irrepressible urge to write again. I've been going through some old stuff, and I found this one. It never really seemed complete to me, so I decided to tie up a few loose ends. Here's Chapter 17, with the _real_ final chapter (Chapter 18) soon to follow. Enjoy!

I have no beta. Blame me for any mistakes you find.

**All Fun And Games**

**17. Post-Game Analysis**

John was surprised to discover upon leaving the simulation room that it was only early afternoon. They'd been in there for a matter of mere hours, but it had seemed so much longer than that. Maybe it was all the shifting back and forth from reality to virtual reality that had distorted his sense of time, or maybe it had been the associated frustration and stress of wanting to do something but being unable to act until he had come up with a workable solution.

John felt tired. His body ached all over, as if he'd spent the morning sparring with Ronon instead of pacing around the Ancients' war room. He'd reported to the Infirmary without prompting from Carson, and somehow managed to wait patiently while Rodney was seen to. Eventually, Carson made his way around to John, and the colonel endured the doctor's examination without comment.

John couldn't say he was overly encouraged by the way Carson was frowning during his exam, but he decided to chalk the whole thing up to Carson's concern for Rodney and the others more than any serious worry he might have had for John himself. At length, Carson pronounced John fit, though he did recommend that the colonel should go to his quarters and rest for a few hours. Under the circumstances, John didn't put up his usual protest about forced inactivity. He'd be only too glad to hit the sack. It'd probably do him good.

Under strict orders to report any unusual symptoms immediately, John left the Infirmary. He'd briefly considered looking in on Rodney before leaving, but thought better of it. Rodney probably needed rest just as much as John did. John convinced himself that if Rodney were in any serious danger or if anything changed, Carson would let him know. There was no point in disturbing Rodney unnecessarily at this point, and he did need to catch some shuteye of his own.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon when John awakened. He hadn't meant to sleep for so long, but he supposed he'd needed it. For a moment he lay still on his bed, enjoying the warm, comfortable feeling of his blankets and the stillness of his room. His joints and muscles didn't ache now, and he had to admit that his nap had left him surprisingly refreshed despite the dreams.

The visions he'd experienced in his sleep were odd. He'd imagined he was back in the Ancient war room, and that he'd reactivated the Game. In the dream, he'd re-entered the white room at the beginning of the Game, but instead of seeing the simulacrum of General O'Neill there, John had seen a small child. The child had appeared to be six or seven years old, and had straight blond hair and pale blue eyes. Oddly, John hadn't been able to tell if the child was a girl or a boy, but on further reflection now that he was awake, he decided the child must've been a girl. She had delicate features and had been dressed in a crisp white tunic and trousers too clean to have belonged to any seven year old boy.

There had been a window in the white room which looked out onto a park or a playground of some sort, though John hadn't been able to see it properly. The child in his dream had talked to him, and now John tried to recall what the little girl had said. John had a vague memory of the child introducing herself, but ne could not remember what she'd told him her name was. She'd said other things, too, but the only phrases John could recall distinctly were, _please help me_ and _don't forget. _The child hadn't seemed to be in any immediate danger, but she'd sounded worried when she'd asked John for assistance. The rest of the dream was rapidly fading, but the little girl's plea for help was still anchored firmly in John's mind even though John was now fully awake. He wished he could remember the reason why she needed his help, but that detail was gone with the rest of the dream.

John had never been one to read meaning into his dreams. He'd always figured they were just his brain's way of dealing with all the things that happened to him when he was awake. He didn't find it unusual to have dreamed about the Game, since the experience was so recent. It was only the content of the dream that seemed weird. It had been much more focussed and sequential than John's usual nighttime fare, almost as if he'd been reliving a memory of something that had actually happened or if he'd been inside a holographic recording.

Maybe he'd mention it to Carson. It didn't exactly come under the description of an unusual symptom, but it did seem bizarre enough to make him think twice about keeping it to himself. He lay on his bed for a few more minutes, savouring his unusually relaxed state for a bit longer before he finally made a concrete decision to get up. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept during the day, outside the Infirmary. He decided he liked it, and thought maybe he should try to take naps more often.

He took his time getting dressed. That was a bit of a novelty, too. Usually, he ended up double-timing through his routine, either because he was late for something or because there was an imminent crisis demanding his attention. He stood in front of the mirror for a moment and ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. It stuck up at odd angles, but he decided it didn't look _too_ bad. Satisfied, he left his quarters and headed for the Infirmary at a decidedly leisurely pace.

He was about halfway to his destination when he heard footsteps coming up fast behind him. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. Elizabeth Weir was hurrying toward him.

"Hey, Elizabeth," he greeted.

"John, I was just going to call you."

John grinned at her. "I guess I saved you the trouble," he said. She kept walking and he fell into step beside her. "What's up?"

"I'm on my way to meet with Carson," Elizabeth said.

"That's a coincidence. I was going to see Carson, too."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Yeah," John said. "He wanted me to check in with him when I woke up. I guess he just wanted to make sure I'm still okay, after what happened this morning."

"And are you okay?"

"Well, I feel fine. I guess Carson will be able to tell me for sure, though. So, what're you going to see him about?"

"He's got some news for us about our people," said Elizabeth.

"Good news?"

Elizabeth's expression was enigmatic. "I hope so. He didn't say it was bad news. In fact, he said it was interesting news, which makes me wonder what kind of surprise we're in for, actually."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Carson was waiting in his office when Elizabeth arrived. He was pleased to see John was with her and that the colonel looked rested and none the worse for the morning's experience. He beckoned them in, and the two of them settled into the chairs he indicated for them. He had a lot to tell them, not the least of which included the findings Dr. Biro and Dr. Wolfchild had made about the Ancient cube.

His first concern was to let them know how Rodney, Radek and Itzhak were getting on, though. He wasn't at all surprised when Elizabeth asked him about them, almost immediately after sitting down.

"They're all going to be fine," Carson assured her. "Rodney isn't suffering any serious effects from being trapped in that device, other than a some wee abrasions and a sore back, but I'm going to keep him till morning, just for observation. Radek's doing well, and if he keeps improving, I'll release him to his quarters in the morning, too."

"That's good to hear," Elizabeth said, visibly relieved. "What about Dr. Perlman?"

"Itzhak is going to be with us a wee bit longer than the others, I'm afraid. He'll be all right, but it's going to take him a bit longer to recover. His symptoms are significantly more marked than Radek's. It seems he had a greater exposure to the chemicals from the cube than Radek did," Carson said. He turned toward John. "Incidentally, Colonel, you were right about the cube. It _is_ a weapon."

"Are you talking about the combination lock device?" Elizabeth asked.

"Aye," Carson said. "I understand Radek found several non-weaponized ones around the city."

"We thought they were _all _non-weaponized," said Elizabeth. "We didn't realize any of them were dangerous. Why would the Ancients...? Why would _anyone_ want to turn an everyday object into a weapon?"

"Element of surprise," John guessed. "If you think it's something innocent, you're more likely to pick it up, right?"

"The problem with that is, we're more likely to pick it up, too. How are we going to know if we're dealing with a safe object or a weaponized one?"

"We'll just have to be extra careful, I guess," said John. "Carson?"

"Unfortunately," Carson said, "Dr. Biro says there doesn't seem to be any way to tell the weaponized cubes from the non-weaponized ones, short of activating them. We'll just have to avoid touching any new ones we find, until we sort out how to tell the difference. With other potentially weaponized objects, well...it's as you say, John. We'll just have to be careful."

Elizabeth didn't seem entirely satisfied with that, but she didn't persist. Instead, she asked, "What does the cube do? How is it making our people sick?"

"From what we've been able to work out so far," Carson said, "the cube is a chemical weapon. It's got a toxin inside, and when you turn the moveable parts, it releases the toxic gas into the air. Among other things, the toxin elevates the body's levels of adrenaline and norepinephrine to abnormally high levels, and keeps them elevated for an unnaturally long time."

"What does that mean in English?" John asked.

"Adrenaline and norepinephrine are neurotransmitters. Both are active in the 'fight or flight' response," Carson explained. "When a person gets scared, his body helps him get ready either to fight or to run away. It's perfectly natural, and the neurotransmitter levels usually return to normal fairly quickly. With this toxin, though, one set of chemicals causes the victim to hallucinate, and the other set keeps the neurotransmitter levels up, to the point of being dangerous."

"You mean, a person could be frightened to death, _literally_?" John said.

"I suppose with some species, that could happen," Carson conceded.

"Not to humans, though?" asked Elizabeth.

"I don't expect so, unless the particular human had a weak heart."

"What about the Wraith?" John asked.

"Oh, I doubt you'd frighten the Wraith to death with it. I suppose it could be possible, and I'd certainly never say it was _impossible _until I've had a chance to study it properly, but I don't think it'd be especially useful as an offensive weapon, regardless of whether or not it's capable of killing anyone."

"It'd depend on the delivery method," John said, evidently warming to the idea. "If you could figure out a way to cover a large area with it, you could incapacitate whole squadrons of soldiers, maybe even the entire population of a Wraith hive ship. Imagine the tactical advantage this sort of thing would've given the Ancients. The toxin wouldn't have had to be lethal at all. With the enemy temporarily out of commission... Well, you get the idea."

"It sounds like dirty fighting to me," Carson said.

"Yeah, but I'm guessing the Ancients were pretty desperate, and who ever said war was fair?"

"Gentlemen, we can discuss the military uses for the toxin later," Elizabeth said. "Let's get back to our people, please."

"Of course," said Carson. "Where did I leave off?"

"You were talking about neurotransmitters," John said. "I have a question about that, actually."

"Go ahead," Carson encouraged him.

"I'm guessing everyone's got these neurotransmitters, right? We were all in the room, so all of us must've been exposed to the stuff from the cube. Why was it only Radek and Itzhak who got sick? You and I are fine, and you said Rodney's okay, right?"

"I was just coming to that bit," Carson said. "You and I are natural carriers of the Ancient gene. Rodney's gotten it as well, from my gene therapy. I had an idea the toxin had been engineered so that the Ancients wouldn't be affected by their own weapon, and now that we've tested it, I was right. You and Rodney and I weren't affected because we're immune."

"Because we have the ATA gene," John said.

"Aye, that's right," Carson said. "The toxin only affects people who haven't got the gene."

"Wait a minute," John said. "Radek is better, you said, but Itzhak isn't. If this toxin, or whatever it is, affects people who don't have the gene, shouldn't Radek still be sick, too? I mean, not that he _should_ be sick, but you know…"

John let the sentence trail off, and Carson got the feeling that he was slightly frustrated as he did so. John was usually better than this at getting his point across. He glanced at Elizabeth, who quirked one corner of her mouth in a fleeting, not-quite smile.

"I think what John's trying to ask," said Elizabeth, "is, if the toxin affects people who don't have the ATA gene, why is Radek recovering so quickly while Dr. Perlman isn't? Neither of them have the gene, so shouldn't they be affected similarly?"

"Now, that's one of the interesting parts," said Carson. "I can't be positive without further tests, of course, but I do have some solid theories. From what we've learned, we know the toxin is airborne. It's possible Itzhak also absorbed some of it directly through his skin when he was handling the cube, though. He may have gotten a larger concentration of it because he was in such close proximity to the source when it was released. Another possibility is that Radek's symptoms are less severe because even though the gene therapy didn't work on him, there are still traces of the retrovirus in his body which might've given him a wee bit of immunity. Itzhak hasn't got that particular advantage."

Carson was aware that Itzhak's refusal to undergo the ATA gene therapy wasn't news to either John or Elizabeth. Itzhak was a brilliant epidemiologist, but he had a checkered past that included some highly classified work in bio-weaponry for both the American and British governments which, Carson knew, was also not a secret to Elizabeth and John. Itzhak was not proud of his role in those particular postings, and the things he'd seen and done in those top-secret labs had left him understandably paranoid about protecting his own body from perceived self-inflicted harm.

He maintained that Carson was playing with something he didn't fully understand, yet stolidly refused to help him understand it better. Carson couldn't blame him, really. He couldn't say he'd behave any differently were he in Itzhak's place, and up to now, the lack of ATA gene hadn't proved _dangerous_ to anyone.

Elizabeth's lips thinned in a pensive frown. "I've spoken to Dr. Perlman more than once about the gene therapy. The conversations have never gone well," she said, and added almost as an aside, "He seems to have issues with authority."

Carson did his best to hide a grimace. It wasn't authority in general that Itzhak had issues with. As far as Carson could tell, he just didn't seem to like Elizabeth all that much. Carson said, "I'll speak to him about it. In light of the situation, perhaps he'll have changed his mind."

"Maybe," said Elizabeth, but she seemed unconvinced.

"So, is it okay if we check in on Radek and Rodney?" John asked, adroitly changing the subject.

Carson was glad of the shift away from the previous topic, even if John's intervention had been conspicuous. He didn't want to get into yet another discussion with Elizabeth about Itzhak and his attitude. Those conversations usually started with Elizabeth complaining about Itzhak's apparent insolence toward her, followed by Carson inevitably defending his friend. Those meetings always ended badly, with Carson promising to address the situation with his wayward colleague. After the first time, he'd never again bothered to take Itzhak to task about his dislike for Elizabeth, though. He couldn't compel the man to like her, after all, and as far as Carson knew, Itzhak had never directly disobeyed her. As long as there was no obvious trouble, Carson wasn't about to stir the pot.

"Of course you can see them, Colonel," Carson told John. "I'm sure they're both awake and bored by now. They might appreciate a visit."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Carson hadn't told John that he could look in on Itzhak as well as Radek and Rodney, but then again, he hadn't specifically said _not _to, either. John decided he'd just poke his head into the doctor's room to see how he was getting along, and to say hello.

John wasn't surprised to find Hanna Eriksson there when he arrived. Hanna was seated next to Itzhak's bed, holding his hand. John grinned. Hanna and Itzhak's relationship was an open secret in Atlantis; everyone knew about it, but for the sake of propriety, nobody really talked about it. They were low-key about it themselves, so apparently no one in charge saw it as a problem. For his part, John was happy for them. Everybody needed somebody, after all, and as unlikely a couple as these two were, they seemed to be good for each other.

John tapped lightly on the door frame and quietly said, "Hey."

Hanna turned her head to look in the direction of the door, but she didn't get up or let go of Itzhak's hand. "Hi," she said. "You can come in, if you want."

"Thanks," John said, stepping into the room. "How's he doing?"

"Not good. He's in a lot of pain. We thought he was coming around, earlier, but then his symptoms got worse."

"Carson thinks he'll be fine in a couple of days, though, right?"

"Hmm…" Hanna murmured. John watched her thumb move tenderly and rhythmically across the back of Itzhak's hand. "He says so, and I trust him, but it's just…I don't know. It's hard, seeing the person you l― Well…a person you care about, in pain like this."

Itzhak opened his eyes at that point. He seemed to have some difficulty focussing, but finally his eyes found Hanna. "Hey," he said weakly. "Stop…talking about me like…like I'm not here."

"Sorry…_älskling_, I'm sorry," Hanna murmured. She said something else to him in what John guessed to be her native Swedish, and then,"The colonel only wanted to know how you are."

Itzhak's gaze roamed until it settled on John. "How do I look?"

John grinned. "I don't think I should answer that question, Doc."

"Yeah." Itzhak shifted his head on the pillow and was wholly unsuccessful in hiding either his wince of pain or his undignified whimper. He squeezed his eyes shut. "God _damn…_!"

John felt his own body tense in sympathetic reaction. "What―" he began.

"Headache," Hanna explained. "It seems to be getting worse instead of better."

"Aren't you giving him anything for it?"

Hanna shook her head. "Carson says not to, because we don't know how our medications will react with the toxin. I know it's the right choice, medically, but―"

"I know," John said. "You wish there was something you could do."

Hanna nodded, but didn't reply for several moments. "It's so frustrating," she said at last. "I'm a _doctor_."

Itzhak reached over and covered Hanna's hand, so that it was caught between both of his. "It's okay," he said. "Me, too…and I can't help you feel better, either."

Hanna made a small, pitiful noise, and John had the sudden, panicked thought that she was going to cry. The moment passed, though. She blinked her pale blue eyes several times, and rubbed her free hand across them, but there was no moisture.

John shuffled his feet. "Uh…I guess I should get outta here."

"Colonel, wait," said Itzhak.

"What is it?"

"Sorry. About...earlier today."

"About what happened down there in the Ancient war room, you mean?" John said.

"Yeah."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Doc. What happened down there wasn't your fault."

"You...warned me not to...to touch anything. If...if I'd listened..."

"If you'd listened, somebody else probably would've touched something, and the result would've been just as bad," John said. "Everything worked out. Carson and I are fine, Rodney and Radek are going to be okay, and Carson says you'll be back to normal in no time. Mistakes happen. Don't beat yourself up about it, okay?"

"Could've been a fatal error," Itzhak said.

"Yeah, it could've been, but it wasn't. You can't second-guess yourself like that."

"Guess I won't be going on any missions for a while, huh?"

"Not for a while," John conceded, "but that doesn't mean you're going to be stuck in the lab forever. If we stopped relying on everyone who got into a little trouble, my whole team would be grounded permanently. Hell, _I'd_ probably be confined to my quarters for the rest of my life. Try not to worry, okay?"

"Okay," Itzhak said, after a protracted silence.

"I'll come and see you again tomorrow," John said.

Itzhak didn't reply, but Hanna gave him a grateful little smile. John touched her shoulder briefly, and returned the smile. He said goodbye to her, and left the room as quietly as he'd entered it.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Rodney had slept for most of the afternoon. When he awakened around dusk, he discovered himself in the Infirmary. The rational part of his brain told him it was logical for him to be in the Infirmary, even though he could not remember arriving. He took stock of himself and came to the conclusion that aside from a few minor aches, he felt fine.

He did recall having dreams, but they'd been a lot less nightmarish than usual, and he felt amazingly well-rested. He tried to remember what the dreams were about, but all his memory would yield were vague images of a small, fair-haired child in a white outfit. _Strange_, he thought. The child was mini-Radek, and yet it was not. The merest hint of doubt about the child's gender brushed at the back of his mind like a breeze rippling the surface of water. He was almost certain the child in his dream was male, but... He let the thought trail off. Boy or girl, what did it matter? It was only a dream, and who could ever figure out what the brain did when a person was asleep? Rodney resolved not to dwell on it.

He pushed himself into a sitting position in bed, and looked around the room. Resting in another bed a few meters away was Radek Zelenka. The engineer was awake. He lay on his side, facing Rodney's bed. Rodney noticed that Radek's right hand was swaddled in a gauze bandage. He frowned, wondering how his friend had injured his hand.

"You were dreaming," Radek observed.

"Hello to you, too," said Rodney.

Radek offered a sheepish smile. "Hello. You talk in your sleep."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to hear you talk in your sleep," Radek said. He sat up in bed, and awkwardly rearranged his pillows so that he could recline on them. "How do you feel?"

"Okay, I guess. You?"

"Better, except for my hand. It still hurts a little."

"Yeah...um...what happened to it?"

"I burned it, working on some machinery," Radek said. "Is minor. Carson says it will be fine."

"Good," said Rodney. "Uh...did I say anything weird? In my sleep, I mean."

"Don't you remember?"

"Sort of."

"I think you were talking about me," Radek said. "I heard my name a few times, and there was something about drowning and...being afraid of the dark." This last was delivered with a somewhat apologetic tone.

Rodney frowned in concentration, trying to call up the sounds and images from his dream. He did recollect being in the dark with the entity he'd come to know as mini-Radek, yet it wasn't Rodney himself who'd been afraid of the dark. He said, "I think I was dreaming about the Game. It wasn't you that I was talking about. It was the...the entity in the device. I called him Radek because he sort of looked like you."

"In your dream?"

"No. Well, yes, in my dream, but in the Game, too."

Radek peered at Rodney with a quizzical expression. "The Game is that machine you found, yes? There's an _entity_ in it? A life form?"

"I think so."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know," Rodney said. "I know he's there, though. I talked to him, interacted with him when I was in the Game."

"This entity in the machine… It looks like me?" Radek queried.

"Yes, _he_ looks like you," Rodney said. "Okay, maybe not exactly like you, but he spoke with your accent and he had your hair. He was wearing your glasses."

" You assign it a gender?"

Rodney sighed. "Well, he looked like a little boy, so _yes_, naturally I assigned a gender. Can we stay on point, please?"

" Of course," Radek said. "What is it?"

" What is what? The entity?"

" The point," said Radek, in the patient tone that always made Rodney want to grit his teeth. "You wanted to stay on point, so what is it?"

Rodney sighed. "The _point_, Radek, is that I think he's sentient. Or was."

"Was?"

"When the machine was deactivated, he just disappeared. Before that, he was taking about deletion as if it was death to him. He understood what death means, and he was afraid of it. He told me that he wanted to exist."

"Perhaps he does. Exist, I mean."

"How?"

"If he is computer program, turning off the computer would not necessarily delete him. Software is still on your tablet when you deactivate it, after all."

"True," Rodney conceded. He fell silent, thinking. What Radek said really did make sense. A sentient program was still a program, and despite its complexity the Game was still essentially a computer. Perhaps it was possible that the entity was still alive.

With a rush of mingled anticpation and dread that made his stomach feel like it was in freefall, Rodney instantly knew there was only one way to find out if the entity were still alive or not. The difficulty, he concluded, was going to be in working out how he was to accomplish this suddenly-formed plan.

He must have been quiet for a lot longer than he'd realized because he could sense Radek staring at him. He focussed his attention on the engineer again. Radek wore an expression of mixed curiosity and suspicion. It made an interesting combination.

"Rodney, what are you thinking?" Radek asked.

Rodney hesitated for a moment, but then decided it would be pointless to conceal his idea from Radek. In a lowered voice he said, "I need to get into that room again."

"No," Radek said. He held up his gauze-swathed hand, reminding Rodney of the burns beneath the bandages. "That room is dangerous. You can't go there again."

"I have to. I need to see if the entity is still there."

"What if something happens to you? Who will help you?"

"I thought maybe you would help."

"Oh no. No. I am not going in there again."

"You know, your computer and your tools are still in there."

"I know."

"You want to get your stuff back, don't you?"

"Someone will get my things," Radek said. "Perhaps someone already has."

" You'd trust someone else to handle sensitive equipm?"

"Rodney," Radek said. "Please don't attempt to manipulate me. If you think I don't know that is what you're trying to do, then you insult my intelligence."

"Okay, okay. No manipulating," Rodney said. "Aren't you the least bit curious,about the entity, though?"

"Yes, I am curious, but I won't risk my safety just to satisfy my curiosity."

"Oh, come on!" Rodney said. "That's the worst reasoning I've ever heard. You risked your safety to satisfy your curiosity when you came to Atlantis. We all did. If you can make a big leap like that, what's a small step like this?"

"Small steps are more dangerous. Most fatal accidents happen close to home. Is statistically proven fact."

"Right, so your chances of getting hit by a bus in Prague were statistically greater than your chances of getting in trouble here. Come on, Radek. Who else can I trust to help me with this?"

"Ask Colonel Sheppard."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because he'll tell Elizabeth."

"What makes you think I will not tell her myself?"

"I'm not Sheppard's boss, am I?"

Radek looked exasperated. "When I said not to manipulate me, this also included threats and blackmail."

"You won't tell Elizabeth, though, will you?"

"Maybe," Radek said. "You have to make it worthwhile for me to say nothing."

"If I'm not allowed to manipulate you, then you're not allowed to manipulate me, either," Rodney said. "You have to be fair about it."

"Life is not fair."

"Radek..."

Radek quirked the corners of his mouth in a sardonic smile. "All right," he said. "I won't tell, but if we go to that room and things start getting..._strange_...then we are leaving straight away."

"Don't worry. Do you seriously think I want to get my head stuck in the machinery a second time?"

" Rodney _ex machina_?" Radek quipped. "No, I think not."

"Oh, very funny, Radek. You wouldn't be laughing if it'd been _your _head that got stuck."

"At least you didn't make complete fool of yourself in front of everyone," Radek said.

"Do you remember much about what happened? I mean, did you--"

Radek forestalled the rest of Rodney's question with an upraised hand. He said, "Stop talking. I hear someone."

" I don't--"

"We will discuss this later," Radek said quietly, and then louder, "I cnanot believe you would completely discretit my theory without studying it for yourself."

Rodney caught on quickly, and shot back, "Yeah well, I don't have to study it to see how flawed it is. It's preposterous!"

"Your position is unfounded. All the current research clearly supports my hypothesis." Radek said. He gave Rodney a quick grin and an approving nod just moments before a figure appeared in the doorway.

"Well,"said John as he strode into the room. "You guys look like you're doing all right."

"Under the circumstances, I guess you could say that," said Rodney.

"We're fine, Colonel," Radek said. "Carson says we can both leave the Infirmary in the morning."

"So I heard," John said. "He grinned, "Seriously, though, if you keep arguing like you were doing when I came in, you might be out of here sooner than you think."

"We were not arguing," said Radek."

"It was a healthy debate," Rodney added.

"Oh yeah? About what?" asked John.

Rodney's pulse jumped into a faster rhythm in response to hearing that question. He glanced sideways at Radek.

To his credit, the engineer looked as cool as the proverbial cucumber. In a gently patronizing tone, he told the colonel. "You would not understand. It is complex."

"Try me," John said.

"We were talking about Heisenberg's uncertainty principle," Radek said.

For a moment, John stared at Radek. Finally he said, "You're making that up."

"No. Is real theory of quantum physics."

"Look it up, if you don't believe him," Rodney said.

"Right," said John. "If you don't want to tell me what you were really talking about, that's fine. I just wanted to come in and say hello, and see if you guys were okay."

"We're good, "Rodney said.

"Have you seen Itzhak?" Radek asked, changing the subject on him as deftly as John himself had done to Carson earlier. "How is he?"

"Not so good," John said. "Let's just say he's not getting out of here in the morning. Turns out that Rubik's cube thing had some kind of poison in it, and the kicker is that it only affects people who don't have the ATA gene."

"I don't have the ATA gene," Radek said.

"Which explains why you were affected, but Rodney and I weren't," said John.

"I'm not ill now. Shouldn't Itzhak be better, too?"

"Apparently, he got a bigger dose than you."

"Oh," Radek said. "He will get better, though?"

"Carson says so," John said. "It'll just take a bit longer for him, that's all."

"Have you actually seen him?" Rodney asked.

"Yeah, but he wasn't really up to having visitors."

Radek smiled cryptically. "I expect Hanna was there visiting him."

"Doctors don't count as visitors," Rodney scoffed. "Although, I probably wouldn't complain if Hanna came around to...you know..._visit_ me."

"I think you might still be dreaming," Radek said.

John added, "I'm pretty sure she's only ever going to visit you in a strictly professional way, McKay."

Rodney sighed. "Hey, is daydreaming _illegal_, now? I need something to keep my mind off my current situation. I'm a sick man, you know."

John laughed out loud at that. "I don't think I can even dignify that with a reply," he said.

"You--" Rodney began.

"Okay, okay," John held up his hands in an appeasing gesture. "You're allowed to daydream. Just try to keep it to yourself, all right?"

"Hmph," was Rodney's response. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, Sheppard?"

"What Rodney means to say," Radek interjected, "is that we are both very tired. Aren't we, Rodney?"

"Exhausted," Rodney said, giving John a baleful look. "Totally."

"That's funny. You seemed alert enough when I came in," John said.

"All this...what do you say? All this _banter_ is tiring us," said Radek.

"You guys wouldn't be trying to get rid of me so you can go back to your little scheme, would you?"

"Of course not," Radek said.

"Yeah, and who says there's a scheme, anyway? There's no scheme," said Rodney, "and even if there was, we wouldn't be involved in it. Would we, Radek? We're just a couple of patients, trying to recover."

"Right," John said.

They exchanged farewells, and John said he'd see them after breakfast tomorrow morning. After giving them a rather tongue-in-cheek lecture about not staying up past lights-out, John turned and left the room. Both Rodney and Radek were silent for several minutes after the colonel departed. When Rodney felt it was safe to speak again, he turned toward his friend.

"Do you think he bought it?" Rodney asked.

"No," Radek said. "Would you have believed us? It doesn't matter, though. He doesn't know what we were talking about. If we don't discuss it with anyone else, your secret will be safe."


End file.
